The winds bellowed amongst the trees.
Her tone remained rather calm, as though she was reciting a prayer.
Her eyes spoke a foreign language of fear and abandoned hope.
She grasped my hand firmly with her cold clammy hands and held it tight against her chest.
I tried to wrench my hand out of her grip.
Her eyes shone with plea and I could see her saying something.
I reeled back as reality sank in.
Her clothes were stained with his blood.
I looked at her again.
Her eyes now shone with contempt as she spoke about him.
He lied, so I killed him, she whispered.
She looked at me with those big brown eyes of hers.
Those eyes that looked innocent and pure, now merely looked dark and lifeless.
She smiled at me, a smile that was laced with fear.
Do you love me? She asked.
How can I not, I murmured.
As I stood there, embracing the eerily calm surroundings, I truly understood what it meant to love someone.
Loving someone has never been about loving the parts of them that are warm and refreshing.
It is about knowing the deep dark secrets that they keep hidden within them and loving them nevertheless.
Her hand came up to my cheek.
She gently pushed a strand of my hair behind.
I trust you, my mother whispered into my ears and walked away quietly.
My hands were now scarlet too.
I felt the tears roll down my cheeks.
I wiped away my tears furiously with the back of my hand
Reminiscing all the times I had with him, I said my goodbyes in silence.
I tried to avert my gaze.
My eyes darted around the room and landed on that lifeless body.
My father’s lifeless body.
Written by Medha Somayaji for MTTN
Artwork by Aarathi Mohandas for MTTN