Her eyes teared up as she wrote another long, lying letter to her mother. A letter which would give away nothing of what was happening to her, which killed her bit by bit from guilt every time she thought of her mother.
Her mother had always been her best friend. She still was. But this time she couldn’t share her happiness with her mother. Or her pain. She looked at herself in the mirror across the bed. She saw her blurred self lying on the bed, papers piled up neatly on a hard bound dictionary. She covered her bosom with her saree. The red marks around her neck didn’t need a mirror as a reminder.
She was in love. With a man not her husband. She was in pain. With a man her husband.
Graciously Yours!
Picture Courtesy : Pinterest.
Inking The Thinking. 
She needs to get up have some courage and walk out..
Tell her mom I am sure she would help her out toooo..
Life is so complicated…
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Life is indeed complicated! Watch out. To be continued … 😉
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Too good. And painful.
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Thank you. And sadly, yes. 😦
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Elegantly done!
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Thank you! I always await your responses ❤
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Written well, but tell her to stop bearing it! I find it hard to understand women who stay in marriages which are so abusive. I mean, girl, do what’s best and slip out or you’re going to die. Mentally and physically. It’s a sick thing and I think girls need to be told more that they should not put up with the horrible things done to them. They deserve more that that.
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Everyone deserves more than that – men or women. They just have to remember to put their happiness before that of others, their principles before that of others, their lives before that of others.
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Ooh this is tantalising!
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Leaves you wanting more? 😉
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Yep!
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