Am I the girl who deserves that shrug of your shoulder or that rotten remark you lightly whisper into your neighbour’s ear when I pass by? This question had often puzzled me but I never found a suitable answer. Now I have ceased to think about it and stopped caring about you lot.

I am that girl who you would have called vociferous, a girl who lives in your neighbourhood whom you hate from the core of your heart. I remember those early days, when I used to go out with people you found shady but I never cared. Then one day everything changed, the day my parents died in that plane crash. Sitting beside their soul less body, I cried for hours. You said that I was just pretending. But believe me that excruciating pain that I felt when I saw their body in morgue is inexpressible, a feeling that I dare not wish you to ever feel. 

The next day my uncle came, he took me to his house in a distant city, a place that I had never known. You people said he was so generous, so good. But the truth so far from it. I left all my dear friends here, everything that made me and went with him. Two years I spent in his house, years that I dare not relive. He introduced me to a powdery substance, which gave me a sensation, a feeling of euphoria. I didn’t feel the pain, the thoughts of my parents and friends didn’t cross my mind. I don’t remember much that happened next but I just know something wrong happened. I spent days inside a dark room, a small window at the other end. 

Then one day everything changed, I was hauled up to the police station. My uncle was sitting there, handcuffed. I served a jail sentence of about six months for illegal possession of drugs and I was freed, a freedom from fetters of my uncle. I heard that my uncle was in prison serving a sentence for a fraud he had done in his company. 

I went to a rehab. After few months they released me. I came back and found my father’s account spotlessly clean, all money deposited in my uncle’s account.

Yes, their was a time when I had more drugs in blood than water, I made my heart age faster than anyone else and I have a past that I wish not relive. 


7 thoughts on “Relive

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s