Fiction

Deciphering the Sub-conscious (Part-I)

She stood behind the huge mahogany door. So petite; so weak; so strong. Her right eye peeped out from behind it. Almond eyes; empty; dark; hopeful. Her long eyelashes almost crushed as she pressed her cheeks against the door. She held it firmly with her long fingers, chipped nails; the bright pink paint half worn out. She felt her long, ebony black hair fall on her back as the pin from her bun fell to the floor; along with it a perfect drop of translucent water.

She was in her most elegant gown; peach-cream. Her fair cheeks had a red tinge; a lovely red; the red of love. She sat playing the piano. Her long fingers moved swiftly. The ruby ring, the bright pink paint on her smooth nails charmed the keys. They danced in glee. The music filled the hall. All were smiling, laughing, dancing.

Another perfect drop of translucent water arranged itself close to the hairpin.

The almond eyes- still empty; still dark; still hopeful.

A tight bun held her hair; the hairpins studded with gems. He came close to her, kissed her hand, and sang. His baritone; deep; mesmerising. None danced. None laughed. But all smiled. Happiness, contentment, music. The air smelled sweet.

Another fresh drop of perfect translucent water flowed down her cheek. It touched the corner of her lips. The music reached her ears; made her mad. She wanted to run to the hall. She wanted to sing, dance, laugh. Music and madness and madness and music. The air around her smelled of nothing. She wanted to taste sweet air.

Her grip on the door loosened. As she picked up the pin, her wet palms tried to hold her long black hair. She wanted to make a bun. A big, black, tight bun. But, her hands held nothing. Her lips trembled. She clutched her gown in despair. The coarse grey cloth crushed inside her clenched fists. A ruffled, dull black bundle ended right below her ears. Streams of translucent water gushed down her pale dusky cheeks. The crumbled lashes were wet. They looked like little studded hairpins; like dew drops on dry grass.

The almond eyes were empty; dark; dead.