She was standing at the top of the highest building in the neighborhood she could find. No chances were to be taken. She glanced down and admired the beauty of her small town; the beautiful memories she had of this city didn’t matter anymore. Much to her annoyance, a drop of clear, salty water escaped her left eye and cascaded down her jaw, vanishing into nothingness.
The diamond ring which sat on her left hand’s middle finger felt heavy, she pulled it out and let it fall on the brick floor of the huge terrace. Slowly, she brought her palms which smelled of henna, in front of her face.
“It could have been his name written on my hands.” She thought.
She had been mistaken that her parents loved her. If they really did, such a monstrous crime could not have been committed by them. They robbed her off of the happiness she deserved and killed her soul. Why? You ask. The love of her life was snatched from her, tortured and stabbed to death just because he belonged to another caste.
Even, after this, the people who called themselves her parents had the audacity to arrange her marriage with a guy she barely knew.
Recollecting this made her feel morose; all she could think about was the man she loved with her heart and soul.
There was no turning back now. There was nobody she had to live for, no one at all. She took off her shimmering golden heels and stepped on the terrace wall. With a dead lover and a marriage she didn’t want, her hope was lost.
There was nobody who could save her now; she didn’t want to be saved.
For a moment, she closed her eyes and saw a pair of beautiful brown orbs in front of her, his brown orbs. All at once, she smiled, as she could sense him with her already. She knew they were going to be together once again.
She slowly opened her eyes and looked at the horizon for one last time and with that, she jumped.
© 2016 Sonali Pawar. All Rights Reserved
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