This is sensitive content. It contains self-harm and suicide. Be warned. Continue at your own risk.
To: Healing girl.
Subject: She Can't Escape Yet.
Dear Girl,
Today, I don't think I can go slow on my emotions as I am writing this, a knife in my left hand and my right hand busy on the keyboard, afraid of what will happen next. In the next room, the thumping of the door is so loud, and I am afraid that things are about to take a different turn.
He came at me so strong. He accused me of a lot of things. I agree that, of late, I haven't given him much attention, and I am planning to continue that way. I don't think I would want this to go on for long, but I am in a place that is so hard for me to get out of.
I don't want to be in his grasp for so long, I think I am ready to let it go. I think I want to show him that he can't just raise his hands at me. I fear that with this tip of blade dripping his scarlet red blood, I might go deeper than I intend to go. Should I just end it with this? I don't want to be called a murderer. I want to live a humble life. Do you think that is possible?
He bashed my head on our wedding picture again! He slapped my cheeks and told me I was worthless. I can't catch a breath from him. Should I just calmly beg him to stop? Even after a long time, do you think he will come around and admit his wrongdoing?
I have asked you over and over if I did something wrong when I was born. Was I some mistake in this life? Is there a life where I am going to be a princess?
I am tired, I want to run, I want to escape from this world! How many times am I going to beg you to let me just go? Will it be when I am in a coffin, six feet deep and no one to smile at?
I am afraid of facing my colleagues tomorrow at work. My face is all swollen, the purple marks all over me. Imagine the embarrassment that I will face when they point out how I look, but deep down, they know what I am going through.
For how long will this arranged marriage last? If he doesn't want me, why can't he just get those divorce papers? I want out!
Or am I not acting the perfect daughter? Am I not good enough? I think I am not.
I am falling for someone who is not in my league, and I fear that is going to put me in a bad place forever.
I know you want to know what started all this. It is because of those repressed feelings for a student that I have. He is quick at catching on. He found the pink toy that we agreed to keep a secret from him. He wants me to spread my legs whenever he wants. He wants to be the only one to touch me. Can't I have fun?
I haven't been touched the way I want. When he goes around sleeping with his women, I haven't raised my voice at him. Why would he want to find any error in what I am doing?
I am not a robot, I have feelings, and despite being a twenty-three-year-old woman, I know what is expected of me.
Do I?
I know that I haven't known what Love is for a while. Is love when I do everything that they want me to do? Is it love when they force the man I don't desire deep into my throat? I am worried that I am going to ask you a lot of questions that you wouldn't answer.
The thudding of the door is so loud, and I fear he is going to break it down any minute. If he bashes in hear, what should I do? Should I go on and drive this knife deep, or should I let him do what he wants to do?
Will I be charged with self-defence or a well-calculated murder? Though, who is going to miss me if I decide to take my life in that case? For him, he will be missed, but for me, I am a nobody in this life. I am just a thing with a tag on it. The moment they consider me worthless, they are going to throw me away or stash me somewhere I am not needed.
I am conflicted. I am drowning. I am confused. What should I do?
If this happens to be the last mail, let it be known that I tried my best to keep calm. I tried all I could to be a good person. I wish one day you will smile when you read this. My heart is telling me, time is not up for me yet. With the darkness enveloping me, sunshine is yet to come, and I might enjoy the quiet and calmness around me.
I can't escape yet.
Your Longing Friend,
Sandy.
The thumping of the door continued. Sandy threw her phone, the knife in her hand, her right hand still bleeding, and she staggered towards the door.
"You better put that knife down before I break this door!" Shouted the voice on the other side.
She looked at the knife, her hand trembled as she saw how laced in dark dried blood it was. She dropped it down went down on her knees. The door opened with a bang, and Thornson walked in.
"Are you going to kill yourself again?" Asked Thornson to pick the knife next to Sandy.
Thornson was well, no blood on him, but looking at herself, she saw the cut on her upper arm.
"Shit, it wasn't his!" She hissed to herself.