She had been 24 then.
It was horrible.
She had been left, scarred. Both outside and from within.
And.
She hadn’t been kissed ever since.
She is 26 now.
There was a suitor. Her parents were overjoyed. She, too, seemed hopeful at that prospect.
Maybe this would help her find Him. She hated the nagging pain. This pain of separation. The medicines made the pain worse. She hated the therapy sessions, the visits to the Doctors, her parents constantly trying to help her. She hated it all.
This suitor of hers, had endured a similar fate. Except. He had the pain of being ostracized. And unlike her, he had found his answer. She was his answer. She was the soothing salve to his wounds.
Or so he thought.
She wanted answers. But she was cautious,too. She gave them time. They went out on dates. They watched movies together, took walks along the beach, and went to dances. All on his insistence. She politely obliged. He tried to kiss her once. She complied. No. it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t like how it was with Him.
The next time, he leaned in for a kiss, she turned the other way.
Instead of making her feel loved and wanted, the repeated attempts at physical proximity disgusted her.
Made her feel like…she was cheating?
he tried to rationalise. Maybe she needed more time. Women after all, are delicate. he had been subjected to the same horrors, but he was a man. That’s it, he decided. She needs more time. he wanted to make this work badly. he was lonely. he had to deal with his own past. And he wanted to share his life with someone who would understand.
As they got closer and closer, she started testing the waters.
Finally, one day, she asked him about his wounds.
He didn’t want to talk about it.
She pressed on.
He didn’t relent.
She became upset. Her patience had run dry.
She lashed out at him. She asked him about Him. Had he seen Him as well?
Did he remember His face?
Did He mention a name?
Did he, well, like it?
He looked at her, as one would stare at a madman.
he had never seen so much passion in her eyes. he had wished for so long for her to express herself. he wanted to get to know her better, so that he could love her better. But she had never let him in.
This is when he realised that they were not meant to be.
She was delusional. Dangerously so.
He had been firing blank shots all this while.
he eventually left.
She was relieved.
One fine day, she came home from work.
She had picked up groceries for the week. Leaving the bags of shopping on the floor, she entered her bathroom. The tiny, white-tiled room was sparse, save for a full-length mirror, basin, utility cabinet and a shower unit.
She felt different today.
As she peeled off her clothing, she looked at the mirror. It was covered with a curtain. Perpetually.
Almost on an impulse, she pushed the curtain to the side. And she saw herself in the mirror and allowed her fingers to explore her body.
She touched herself, the way He had touched her. It had been 10 long years. But in her memory, the incident was crystal clear.
She ran her hands over her mutilated face, tracing her lips and caressing her cheeks. She traced her collarbones and allowed her hands to examine the contours of her waist. Finally, she ran her hands up and down her arms.
She wanted so desperately to see him.
She walked into the shower unit and ran the cold water. Ever since the incident, she hadn’t bathed in hot water. It would prickle her disfigured skin.
As she stood soaking underneath the showerhead, an idea struck her.
She wondered.
Would it work?
Well, it was worth a try.
She meddled with the hot water faucet. And made up her mind.
As if on cue, she turned it on.
And waited.
The water irritated her skin. Patches of red, flushed epidermis began to cover her.
Steadily, she began increasing the hot water content.
Aah.
Sweet, familiar pain.
She basked in the glory of familiarity and soaked herself in the joy of hope.
As the tiny bathroom filled up with steam, her skin started peeling. She stood patiently beneath the shower, eyes watering with the pain, a dreamy grin plastered on her once beautiful face.
Finally.
She heard Him call out her name.
Ignoring her smarting eyes, she looked around. And saw Him.
“It’s been awhile, hasn’t it?”, he crooned to her in his perfect baritone.
“Is it really you?”, she asked him.
“Why yes, of course it is. Took you long enough to find me. I have been waiting.” he replied
He then made his way across to her. He had to be careful and maneuver His steps, to avoid the layers of her skin that had fallen down.
He pulled her into a tight embrace. And she closed her eyes. He whispered sweet nothings in her ear. She felt at home. It was worth the wait. Two long years!
The next morning, they found her body. The tap was still running and the body had been mutilated beyond recognition. The newspapers called it a case of an ‘accidental death’.
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