She Walks Through

“I will be happy tomorrow and today”, she mumbled as her fingers tapped an unfamiliar beat on the stone sink.

‘It is a part of the process.’ ‘You need to say it to make your mind believe it.’ ‘It is a small step towards leaving the past and stepping into the present.’ Oh, as if she hasn’t heeded to all of these from the cheap, dry mouths of numerous doctors every day and as if she hasn’t tried to play along to the empty advice given in those pale clinics.

Every Saturday noon, she sat across a usual middle-aged woman in her stiff cotton shirt and abundant coffee packets in her bag. They were all the same. They believed that the knowledge of thick books gathered in the final year of medical school would detect what goes through in the toneless vicinity of the human brain. Oh, how much she wanted to believe all these green notes flying around and phony support was worth it.

She settled her dress and imitated the diplomatic smile she kept on in the real world. The mirror didn’t give away her bona fide self. She walked out of the ladies’ room and headed towards the end of the hallway.

The beauty of past is that we all have but it depends on us if we want to visit it or live in it. It was the summer of 1997, and the win of Eagles in the inter-state game had been the news out of everybody’s mouth. A small town team making it to the state had always been a well-regarded and celebrated occasion. At a young age of 17, she was an embodiment of country values and charm. Like any other girl in the town, she folded the ends of her jeans and listened to hard country music. Nonetheless, this was never given away when she curled her long hair and wore one of her mum’s dresses. She was a vision.

It was that summer of fame and delight when it all happened- when she was found in the back of the farmer’s pickup- when her pallid legs were found sprayed across the back- when nobody knew or even cared to know what happened the night of the game- when she grew distant and eventually, lost her being. She was a ghost in the town of gossip and character. Nobody could be blamed and nobody knew.

She took a drag of the orange glow rested between her fingers as she waited for another woman with wealth flowing out her veins. She smiled subtly as the woman sat down to arrange her stacks of paper. “Good morning, I’m the doctor. How may I help you?” She said.

Shivi Singh