Give Me Some Sunshine – Kanika Mishra

 Theme: Like a Moth to A Flame!
 
I’m aware of the fire coursing through my veins. I shiver and sweat. It’s cold outside, in the wee hours of the morning. Fading remains of darkness linger in the sky. What a joke. The darkness will never fade. In retrospect, my entire life is a joke. Visions flash before my eyes, like in those cheesy comedy movies, only these aren’t funny. Two years old- Crying at the entrance of the school, bereft. Three- Class topper. Five- Scolded for being second best. Ten- Scolded for finishing in bottom place. Thirteen- Chastised for being disinterested. Fifteen- Berated for not caring about school. Seventeen- Yelled at, just because.
My heart thumps wildly in this empty shell they call my body. I sigh and wonder- if it weren’t buried so deep beneath my rib cage, would they hook strings to it, too? Would they pull at those invisible threads and slice that tenacious mass of calcium, my bones, and slash my source of precious red fluid until all the blood gushes out? Would they frame the gooey remains as a trophy of accomplishment? That’d be the only trophy they got out of me in recent history, anyway. Me, the worthless waste of space they regret giving life to. But no, my heart beats. It has a mind of its own. If only I did, too. A cold shiver runs down my spine. Could be my sweat. Could just be the ghosts of dreams buried deep within me. Coming back to haunt. Taunt. I don’t blame them. They are angry. Why not? I never gave them a chance. Incinerated their wilting exteriors in engineering college. Dumped their ashes at my father’s feet. Watched silently as he trampled over them in rage- rage directed at me. I did not flunk on purpose, I said. And said some more. It wasn’t a conscious decision. Wasn’t a choice I made. Just like all those other life-altering events. Like not being smart enough. Like being hated by my own parents. Like not being sent to art school. Like being sent to Engineering College instead. Like not making it through.
Like LIVING.
Deprived of freedom and crumbling,
I spiral into this abyss they built;
My fingers claw at the emptiness, then give up.
It’s over, my life. They can live on with their guilt.
I snap out of my reverie. The empty bottle of anti depressants rolls towards me. Irony envelopes my senses. As I fade into darkness, the darkness outside fades. My eyelids droop as the clouds lift. The sun rises as my body sinks to the floor. Give me some sunshine, I always said. Looks like sunshine’s here. Too bad I won’t be, anymore.