The Girl in Blue

He is looking for a girl, who does not know he exists, or the story that has brought him here. He has no reasons to be discreet but still he has to be careful. He is standing near the doorway and surveying the golden banquet hall, which is filled with refined bodies in saris and jackets, and beautiful young women with straight hair who never make facial expressions. But they will, soon.

The man scans the room once more before he sees her. A tiny figure, clad in blue. He drinks in her light brown eyes and jet black hair, before rushing towards her and scooping her up in his arms. The girl stiffens up at first, but then leans in, exactly as she has been taught. All of a sudden, someone grabs his collar and pulls him away from the little girl. “You can’t take her away from me,” he screams. Around them, the women look on at the scene unfolding. Their expressions, now, are a mixture of pity and hopelessness. A minute later, he is lying on the cold, hard ground outside the building. A tear trickles down from his eyes. He feels the pain rip through every fibre of his being as he realizes that he has lost her. He has lost his daughter once again.

He still remembered the day she was born. She was the most beautiful creature he had ever laid his eyes upon. He could never forget the way she had looked at him as she opened her eyes, for the very first time. She looked at him, as if he was her entire universe. He knew, because he looked at her the same way. There was a time when she exuded warmth but now, there was nothing but cold, acceptance in her eyes. Her heart still beat to the same rhythm, but she was dead. She was dead to the world. She was dead, even to herself. After all, she had only ever known this life, practically since the day she was born. But he wanted to show her how to live. He wanted to give her everything and more. He wanted to teach her to hope and to dream. More than that, he simply wanted to take her away with him. With that thought in mind, he gets up and walks down the street. “I will be back,” he promises himself.

Inside, the guests resume their mindless chatter. The women, morph their expressions into blank stares. Once in a while, they glance at the little blue girl in the corner of the room. She stands straight, but they know that she is breaking apart with every second that goes by. As she is led away to a secluded room, they also feel the agony that she has learnt to hide. Still, they do nothing. Truth be told, they can do nothing, but wait.

The girl bites back a scream. She has learnt that struggling is of no use. It had been exactly fifteen years, six months and two days since the day she was born. One of the few things she knew about herself was her date of birth. Seventh of September, 2002. She cursed that day. She cursed the people around her. At first she had thought her life was normal. After all, she hadn’t seen much else. She still remembered the day she realized that things could be different, and were different for many others. Bound up and thrust into the passenger seat of a truck, she had been travelling for hours when they finally stopped for a break. It was then, that she sneaked a peek out the tinted window. A woman stood there, whirling a toddler around and around as he giggled. Happiness and love. That is what she had seen, and the thought of its existence, is what kept her alive. Lately, she had been fading away though. Until she saw the man.

As the clock strikes midnight, the party dies down. The guests file away, one by one. When they exit the banquet hall, they leave behind their deepest secrets, and put on masks of dignity and respect. Masks that will protect them from the brutality of their souls.

The women are rounded up and led away to a set of dingy rooms. Even when they are alone, their faces remain blank. Especially, when they are alone, their faces remain blank.

“Sir, we have told you repeatedly that there is nothing else we can do right now. We have put up barricades around the city and the best thing you can do is to wait,” a disgruntled police officer told the man standing in front of him. The man reigns in his frustration and walks away. He takes out a diary and starts writing down another address. He must attempt to rescue her, on his own. He could not rely on anyone else.

Fifteen years, nine months, five days. She had to remind herself to keep counting. If she did not, she would float away. She, however, needed to stay down here so that she could see him. He was coming. She was certain of it. The man who had embraced her that day would come, and take her away. She trusted him. Love and happiness. She would finally get them both. She wants to smile, but she does not have the energy to do so. Her door creaks as a ghostly figure enters. He pulls her up to her feet. Fifteen years, nine months, five days. She keeps repeating those words to herself.

The man rips away a small corner of the page in front of him. He quickly folds it up and tucks it away in his pocket. Then he walks to a plain brick building at the corner of the road ahead. He tapes the paper up in the middle of the window. After that, he waits. A few minutes later, he sees a frail little hand open the window and take the paper. She is here. He grins to himself.

The girl stares at the paper in her hand. More specifically, she stares at the heart drawn on the paper. Her hands tremble as she rushes towards the window, only to see that it is locked. Her mind starts whirling as she looks once again at the piece of paper in her hands. “But how…..I just opened it,” she whispers to herself. She hears footsteps echoing down the corridor and rushes forward. Suddenly the door opens. It’s him. The one she had been waiting for.

He reaches up for her, and she grasps his hand. There’s nothing but empty air. The door is locked. There is no escape. Worse was the fact, that there was no one to help her escape.

She breaks out into wracking sobs, as memories flash through her mind.

A man was looking for her. She had not even known he existed before that day, or the story that had brought him to her. He had no reason to be discreet but still he was careful. He stood near the doorway, surveying the golden banquet hall, which was filled with refined bodies in saris and jackets, and beautiful young women with straight hair who never made facial expressions. But they would, soon.

He scanned the room once more before he saw her. A tiny figure, clad in blue. He drank in her light brown eyes and jet black hair. He rushed towards her and grabbed her roughly. She had stiffened up at first, but then leant in, exactly as she had been taught. All of a sudden, someone had grabbed his collar and pulled him away from her. “You can’t take her away yet,” he had screamed. He wanted payment. Around them, the women looked on at the scene unfolding. Their expressions, now, were a mixture of pity and hopelessness. At some point, they had all been in her place. They all knew, it was only a matter of time before it happened again. She should have known too. A minute later, she was lying on the cold, hard ground outside the building, tears trickling down from her eyes. She felt the pain rip through every fibre of her being as she realized that she had lost. She had felt completely numb as she was pulled up to her feet and dragged away. To another house. Belonging, to another name.

Now, she stands alone in the room. She sees the scrawls on the wall. They look like the work of a madman. She sees a torn page fluttering on the ground, and the stub of a pencil next to it. She hears the whispers in her mind, still, telling her stories of her savior. A savior she had imagined. She knows better now. He is not coming. There is NO ONE coming. She had always been alone and will always be alone. The voices get louder and louder, but she has already decided. She will not listen to them. Not anymore. She will not be goaded back into a reality that exists only in her mind.

Slowly, she picks up the bottle lying next to her. She empties out the bright blue pills, and swallows them dry. Then she curls up on the ground, and goes to sleep.

Fifteen years, eleven months, twenty nine days. That is the last thing she whispers to herself.