That morning when she opened her eyes everything seemed yellow. The sunlight was filtering through the pale, worn out curtains. But it was not that yellowish light, the room was filled with. The color yellow was oozing out from with in. She looked at his empty bed in the other corner of the small, square room.
She knew the feeling too well. Her forehead was moist with tiny, cold droplets of sweat. The heart was pounding against the walls of flesh. She was having nausea; the sort expecting women experience during gestation. She caressed her belly… her empty womb. She felt like throwing up but there was barely anything in her stomach. She gagged a few times but every time she ended up spitting out stale and bitter saliva.
She thought of him, his image was hazy like a reflection on the surface of water. I think I am passing out she thought. No, it’s just the weakness of nerves. His thought intensified her nausea. She really wanted to puke out her liver, heart, stomach and… the womb.
She had known him for 7 years. Those seven years were full of frenzy and passion. She didn’t know how and when he had become her weakness so much so that he would always call the shots. She had no say in anything. Not even when he would force himself upon her. Not even when he asked her to abort the child. She wanted to have baby but he wasn’t ready for a responsibility.
“You love me?” She had asked him.
“Then let’s get married and have a baby.” She implored hoping to hear a positive reply this time.
“You know your mother won’t accept me. And I am trying to get a job in Dubai. Let me make some money… we would have a family one day for sure.”
She knew he was only buying time. When she would recall his eyes, full of love and desire, her hope would revive. She had spent seven years of her life in this ambiguousness. She succumbed to his arguments once again and aborted the third time. She knew this time she didn’t only kill the fetus she had killed part of herself.
Her heart was sinking; she was totally soaked in the cold sweat. She hadn’t been feeling well since some time. She grabbed the corner of bed sheet as if trying to grasp for the air. She couldn’t inhale enough oxygen. Her mind submerged in the depths of darkness where she could see nothing but the swaying, dancing fetuses with tears falling from their under developed big eyes. She tossed and turned… the pain was becoming unbearable, the nausea was taking her life and above all she failed to shake off those wailing and begging images.
Time came to a stand still… but the clock kept ticking at it’s usual pace with out any regard.
When he came back he found her sleeping. He shook her by the shoulder. She was only a curled up bundle of the dead flesh.
(Inspired by a true incident)