Story of a girl

She comes from a broken home. It doesn’t really matter anymore because her environs unwarily help bounce the positive and negative energy she absorbs from it.

She was also at the fringe of a blossoming age. This was the point where having to deal with peer pressure and social mediocrity were profound yet she no longer had that privilege. The financial disparity that unavoidably arose within her house hold took priority.

The single parent was ill and required constant remedial assistance that left no avail of a secure future for the kids.

Bound to be in charge, she set out into the ‘real-world’ with the impression that she could take care of the lives of her loved ones.

She had high expectations and being unaware, formed an inexperienced analysis of the journey ahead.

Started out, like the rest of us, with all her transparent views and moral values at hand and began to engage with the raw side of society.

You could tell it wasn’t her time as each step was met with resistance and the friction concentrated from those she trusted the most.

She did not give up, she could not give up and continued to bear her spiteful transactions and didn’t expect more than what she received.

Day after day of enduring uncertainties from the 'real-world' smothered her with bitter sentiment.

Nevertheless, to avoid confronting the source and expressing herself became an imperative and what she would call her achievement at the end of the day. The reason being that no one knew how weary her heart bore and how callous her situation had evolved itself into and she was satisfied with their ignorance.

She did not want to be the cause for extra distress. Her emotional needs were secondary, and eventually seized to exist.

She tried real hard to be optimistic but even the positive had to be shunned because it instinctively felt tainted; a hidden misery which gave out expectations like hope, and that eventually faded away like the mirage of an oasis.

No attachments. That’s it.

Some nights, she knew why she was silently crying, other nights she didn’t.

Today, it makes no difference.

The prospect, it seems, would be a never ending transaction which will continue to numb her and the only protection was the infamous wall that partitioned her from the rest of us and no one could enter it. She no longer became emotionally available presuming she would be safe during her everyday battles.

This personal grudge against a disappointing world strained her to transform from the once unassuming and cheerful girl into what was now a suspicious corpse who anticipates nothing more than a catastrophe for herself and herself alone. All the good is desired for others, she intuitively observes, and there’s nothing left but the bits and pieces that flew her way.

Everyone is familiar with this girl. You see her as the fragile and frightened cat that lies astray on the streets.

But when you do, be very gentle.

She’s all of the above and just trying to survive like the rest of us and knows nothing of harming her environs.

And that is why you nurture her, and love her unconditionally even if she keeps asking for more.