Never, not once, was she aware that she'd stumble upon the truth so harshly. Perhaps she thought she'd never face it, or she'd never feel the pain. She'd look in the mirror, neglect the truth and go on with her day.
What was the point?
Nothing. She had 6 months of freedom and then she'd be given away to a man she hardly knew and never met. Her designated future was something she was born to. But often she wondered, Does he know what i look like? Would he mind my ebony features?
The silent agony, the withering torture and the tormenting words of her childhood haunted her day after day for all her 19 years of existence.
How many times had she tried to scratch away the hurt? How many times had she tried to wash away the pain? Was there ever a day when she hasn't prayed at night to be rid of her skin?
6 months and he'd know what she looked like. 6 months and he'd know how she smelt. 6 months and he'd know how she tasted. 6 months and he'd see her pain. Her only emotion. Her bane.
Would he feel for her? Would he ignore her? No, she'd never know. Did she want to know?-- Maybe not. But the choice wasn't in her hands. It never was and never would be.
She'd be a slave to a man who she never knew and probably never will know. She'd be forced to become a moving mannequin.
And she'll never be able to stop it.
Silent tears she repents at night
Pain of years to blind her sight.
Tears and thoughts rolls down ebony skin
Never has she committed a sin.
Now for life she was to pay
For a mistake of sorts she never did make.
Designated to torture, nothing new
Moments of glory will be ever so few...
Inspired by "Second Thoughts" by Shobha De