MEHREEN IMRAN - ALONE NOW

Mehreen Imran is a medical student who lives in India. She writes in her free time. Just kidding, she sleeps in her free time. She writes when she is procrastinating on studying for important exams, which is unsurprisingly quite often.

ALONE NOW
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​I steady myself, feeling the cold of the wall beneath my hand. The pain behind my eyes is like a wild, raging fire. A raging wildfire. I take deep breaths. A sudden fear engulfs me. Pitch-black and haunting. I feel like I am stuck in a whirlpool, being dragged in spirals that become smaller and smaller, eternally. I knew the sickness had taken hold in me as soon as I felt the descent of darkness onto my soul. There is a smell that permeates the whole house. It makes me gag. It is the stink of my soul. The suffocating stench of the sickness in me. I know that.
I know what to do.
The kitchen is awash with sunlight. It glows a soft red. A sweet, warm scent wafts up to me. I pause, taking in the smells of baking. A decaying ray of sunshine hits my face as I enter, flour joyously dancing in the golden ray. My mother is baking something. She hasn't heard me come in. She hums gently. I grab a pot from the kitchen counter. Feeling the cool handle of the pot, hesitating. I swing it once. Then again.
Dragging her out of the kitchen into her room was harder than I expected. I have hurt my back in the process. The pain nags at me as I prop her up with pillows. I get flowers from the garden and surround her with them. my mother has always loved the garden. She has maintained it with great passion and love. When she opens her eyes I know the sight of Rue will comfort her. Bile rises up in my throat. I leave the room crying. It's hard to describe the emotion I'm feeling, but doesn't indescribable describe it?
It is the thought of my sister that keeps me going. If it had not been for her, I would not have been able to continue. Every step feels as heavy as lead. My brain threatens to black out with each breath. I have to save her from this. This sickness. I wipe my tears roughly. This is an occasion to celebrate. Should I dress up for it? The thought makes me feel a bit better.
A black dress. It is simple. The occasion is simple, the consequences of it will echo far into the future. Yes, I like to think of it that away. I stand in front of the mirror in my black dress. I twirl in it. My dress lifts up around me. I believe I can fly. I giggle like a little girl, but I'm soon silenced as the smell hits me again. I had almost forgotten it was there. It seems to fill the whole world.
I tell her, but she begins to cry. My sister doesn't understand what I'm trying to say or maybe she does but denies it. She's hungry, she says. She's always hungry. I have to save her, the pull of this is strong within me. It makes everything easier. That's how I know this is true. I walk up to her and try to comfort her. She's terrified of the dull thuds coming from our mother's room. It will be completely dark soon. The room is cast in a gentle darkness, the sky is purple. The shadows on my sister's face remind me of the pull in my heart. The time is near. It whispers to me.
I nod to her. She is wild from fear, but hides it well. The sickness prods around my head. My back hurts, I'm drenched in pain and sweat. I clench my teeth. It's all I can do to stop myself from screaming.
Now this is the point. You fancy me mad. Madmen know nothing.
I am not insane. I know my mother was alive when I dragged her in the room and covered her in Rue. I am not insane. I repeat this because it is true. I hear the dull thuds, the weak pounding of the door. My mother wants to leave the room. She's probably scared and dizzy from the blows I delivered to her head. I will repeat this, I am not insane. The truth is heavy in these four words. You will see that soon enough.
You fancy me mad.
You.
There, I said it. Those three letters have upended my whole world. They have destroyed me. They have scattered my brain and thrown it to the wind. It's about time you found out. It's time you stop parading around your ignorance. You are responsible for what will be happening tonight. Isn't this what you wanted? Isn't this why you're here? There is no sickness in my head, no stench in this house, only you. Your presence has made me do what I did. Have I entertained you? I knew you would find me hitting my mother intriguing. I knew this would draw you in. That's why I added in that bit, I knew you would like it.
It's up to me to get rid of you. You have seen more than enough. You don't deserve our names. You don't deserve to know anything about my little sister, now or ever. I have to prevent you from being in our lives. I loathe your constant, hovering presence and I must save my sister from it. I will destroy the window you have into our lives and we will be free. Free from your constant judgment, your Evil-Eye. You believe me now, don't you? I told you I am not insane. I just have to rid myself of you.
It's dark now. There is something poetic about the dark. That's why I love it. That's why I wait for it. The night hides terrible things under her cloak, but there is hope, because tomorrow the sun rises again. You might live or die, but the sun will be up tomorrow, like it always it. There is comfort in certainty. It makes uncertainty almost bearable.
I pull back the curtains. My sister is watching me with wide, brown eyes. A mix of confusion and terror stage a play on her tear-stained face. Her expression is stretched taut. She's trying to be brave. I feel my heart balloon in my chest. I can't stand it anymore. She clutches a doll for comfort. I don't remember when she got it. I feel light headed. I force myself to smile, and wave at her. Then I throw open the windows.
The cool night air kisses my face gently. I take in deep breaths of the summer air. There is a profound silence, a deep stillness, it presses on my ears. It's a beautiful night, but your presence weighs me down. It threatens to drown me, overwhelm me. I push down the panic that bubbles up inside. The atavistic instinct of survival flares up inside me. This is it. This is the end.
I climb up the window. I don't look back. I can't. I don't know why. I dread the look on my sister's sweet little face. I can't face it, even though I am doing this for her sake, because I love her. I love her and now you've ruined everything! But enough now. The night awaits me and she grows impatient.
Oblivion doesn't terrify me. It comforts me.
I jump. Falling, falling into the dark abyss. I meet the ground like an old friend---smiling, not afraid anymore.