(EOW) Publication of...

  • Everyday, sometimes even more than once, a piece of me is torn away. Is it because I am too soft? If so I would harden myself in an instant to avoid such unpleasantness. Or was I simply made this way? Fate, perhaps? If this is fate, though, then it is a foul fate indeed.

    The children inside the house laugh and what a joyous laugh it is. I was jealous the first time I heard it, but now I have realized it to be a signal — the signal of my pain. Now only fear follows where that jealousy had once been and with it a strange sense of hope that this will be the last of it. Soon it will be, perhaps, but I must endure for a little while longer.

    A man shouts and a nearby door opens. I cannot tell what he said but I hear something bark outside not long after. Yet another reminder of what is to come. I try to steel myself, but the unexpected happens, startling me and leaving me in a daze. Something comes up from behind and grabs me by the head, spinning me round and round then it comes. Only once, but the pain today was unbearable, thrice times anything I’d felt before and I cannot even cry. My life is being plucked away little by little and only serves to foul my filthy soul further.

    I look towards the ceiling in envy today. The cold hard surface on which I sit only further alienates me and serves my own distaste in my existence. This day too passes by and yet another part of me is ripped off for another’s mess no doubt. My skin feels like it is melting away inch by inch and soon I will be no more than an empty husk, tossed into the nearest bin and left to my fate. A cruel end to the cruelty I have known, but at least I know it is coming.

    Do I feel used? Maybe. No, definitely. My existence thus far has known naught more than envy wrought with pain. Perhaps if I had not this paper-thin shell of mine, I could have been more; more than just one to be used and discarded, more than just an… object. My wishes were nothing more than what they were, and I had no power to make them anything more.

    A hand comes down and grabs me. Do I struggle? What for. I know my place in the world and I am less than beast and bug. I can break the chain no more than an ant could topple an elephant and I refuse to try. It is predetermined and I have accepted it.

    When I first was created, I was young and foolish. My thoughts were pure and I hoped a bright future ahead of me, a decent and spotless future that could never be stained by any. I was naive. I wondered what would be my role, my existence. My life. If only I had known what lay ahead.

    The weeks passed by slowly, painfully, and mercilessly. In the end, I felt an empty shell of my former self, and finally the day came. The shattering of glass could be heard throughout the house. I welcomed the end and waited for it, wistfully remembering all I had gone through. When finally those hands gripped tightly onto me one last time, I fought. I held on, almost glued to that last little bit of life left in me. I did not want to die. I was scared, but did that stop them? My flesh was ripped from my body and I sat naked and afraid. Seconds later, I was thrown to the darkness.

    It is quiet now and there is nothing left to give. I am happy and now I am gone.