Monotony

Far from reality, in her head she hears that voice, telling her, 'Remember what we said about sorting your life out? Well this is it'. She had learnt to ignore her own voice as she spoke the words. She bites hard on her lip till she could taste blood. It reminded her of rust. Back in Pakistan everything smelt of rust. It was the humidity which consumed anything metal and left a carcass of shades of brown. She felt her body go rigid. She realized this was a lot bigger than she imagined and this was going to take everything from her. The walls of her room suddenly seemed lifeless. The string of emotions that followed each day was draining her. Today, she could feel the weight of her emotions physically. Sometimes she would sit and remember how her apartment smelt. The coffee brewing in her tiny kitchen, the smell of warm pecans and maple. She loved those lazy weekend mornings. She would be on her own, her music playing in the background. That was her sanctuary. Even as she lived the memory in her head, her chest aches and her lips trembles. It was beyond perfect what she had. Then she would open her eyes. His house was beautiful and airy but it felt like prison to her. Her tiny cramped apartment in the city over the chicken shop with the smell of fried chicken that wafted through her windows each day gave her more comfort than this grand suburban castle. Her head felt heavy and she realized she had forgotten how to laugh. It was simply easier to fake a smile or a laugh and pretend than to let her emotions show. Emotional expression was somehow a childhood game. Now, it meant nothing.