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Short Story: Incomplete Desire

Disclaimer: Readers please be wary, the story written below has textual description of violence. Not at all suitable for weak minds, pregnant woman and heart patient. If you choose to read it, please be sure you do it on your own risk.

As I walked outside the clinic a cold and stark fear gripped me. A chill went down my spine. The positive reports in my hand showed a disaster. I did not want a baby, not now, not like this.

All my life I had the incomplete desire. I had to fulfill it before the baby. How could this happen? Of course he was trying for a long time and I knew it would be sooner or later. But now, that this is happening, am I ready for this?

The key in the ignition is now telling me something, yes, this has to be done. Shall I drive to my mothers? I am not sure, maybe I have to.
I don't have anyone accept her in this world now. I think I should go there. What will my husband think, when I don't return in the evening?

What will be my answer to him?

Oh well, those are future problems, I am stuck now, in this moment. I have to go there. Maybe papa will help me out, like he does since childhood.

Yes, papa is the answer.

As I drive towards the home again, old rusted memories come back to me. It was five years ago that I had crossed this road, that time it was in a state transport bus.
I had ran away from the house when I was eighteen, the moment I got chance, I ran away from the hell my parents like to call home.
The old house stands still, filled with ghost memories of the past. As I drive inside the compound a spine chilling cold wave hits me.
What am I doing here? Why did I return? I had vowed never to return back, I broke my vow.
I see my mother still in the kitchen, as silent as the past. She had learned to adjust, to adjust to the things happening in the house.
I really pity her. She looks at me with the sad eyes and the age old burden of years on her shoulders.
'You came,' she said sadly, 'I am so sorry I could never protect you, my baby.'
I say nothing. Just smile, don't worry mama, I will protect you.
As if she telepathically heard my words, 'You father is in the workshop.' she says.
The workshop. The dreaded room of my childhood, the room of stolen dreams, of empty souls, the room with incomplete desires. The feeling of guilt that haunted me for so many years rises again in my throat.

It is actually funny, it should end there for it also began there. It began the day I turned five and it continued until I turned eighteen.
The old wooden door creaked open as I stepped in. He was in there stark naked with another woman on the bed.

'My baby, you are back,' he smiles shamelessly.

'You know papa,' I smile at him, 'I don't care if you cheat on mom right in front of her. Because frankly, she deserves it....'
He gets up stupidly and walks towards me. I am not sure what he intends to do, but I never find out.

My hand moves, faster than I had thought of it, the axe in my hand marks its target. The first blow hacks his chest.
The naked lady screams and goes into the farthest corner, but I don't really care about her. I want to see him wither, to see him in pain.

'... how could you do this to me? your own daughter? I was just five when you fulfilled your dirty desires. How could you? You brought me into the world and you made my world as hell?'

The second blow splatters the blood around the room.

My hands and face are smeared into blood. Its a strange thing, that it is the blood of the person who gave me his blood.

I hack him to pieces, blow until blow, until my my ten years worth of prejudice is over. A last look at the old workshop as I pass. The old torture chamber I dreaded to step in since childhood. My worse fears.

A unplanned thought comes to my mind, I remove my cigarette lighter and set the wooden room ablaze. It is over, my worse fears are burning down.

I go to my old room, take a cold shower and wash off the blood. Somehow life seems right now. I see my cell phone, '26 miscals'

I smile and dial him to give the good news, 'Honey, I am pregnant.'

The next conversation is something that changes our world completely. We plan our house, our life around the little feet that have not yet come into existence.
How the life of thirty years changes in seconds. Suddenly all the reasons why I love him come back to me.

I rub my belly, patting my unborn baby in the womb.

The world is safe now for you to come, my darling. Come soon, mommy is waiting.


Child abuse is a crime, however more than a crime it is a act that robs the sense among the small children. If you know any incident, don’t be afraid to raise a voice, don’t let the memory repress under you. Some more bloggers who posted on the serious issue.
Shilpa Sharma
Nikita Gupta


These are the links I know off, do let me know if you have written something about it and I will update the links.


Comments

  1. Hey, Sid, put the second part of the disclaimer in the end.. U jus gave away ur story in the beginning itslf.
    Anyway, a serious issue, recently taken up by Shilpa as a 55 Fiction.
    U've dealt it nicely.. kudos!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Well done....

    I think stories deliver the message in a better way because stories makes you visualize the thing as if it's happening in front of your eyes and hence makes you feel every feeling..what else can i say a job very well done!


    shilpa

    ReplyDelete
  3. My hands and face are smeared into blood. Its a strange thing, that it is the blood of the person who gave me his blood.

    this very sentence sent chills through my body..

    a very good article..

    OK...do visit my next post....soon....
    on the same topic...

    ReplyDelete
  4. Wonderfully written sid. I personally have friends who have been abused in their childhood and the thought itself is so disgusting. i mean how can they? ...complete freaks and frustrated bas***!

    Great writing on a serious issue :)

    ReplyDelete
  5. child abuse , haunting memories, a new future all three nicely portrayed
    Child abusers are sick sick people x(

    ReplyDelete
  6. @Vipul
    Point taken and amended. Thanks.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Wow Sid! I am spellbound...
    I like the survivor spirit of the fighting back... well-depicted, even the abused can break free and make a life of their own.
    Wonderful! :)

    ReplyDelete
  8. hey...very nicelt done and expressed emotions..u were soo good at every line..loved it ..

    and i agree with urlast lines..hope fr the best ..keep writing such stories..:)

    Have a nice time..

    ReplyDelete
  9. @Rahul
    Sure buddy, no need to remind me. I'll b there neways


    My hands and face are smeared into blood. Its a strange thing, that it is the blood of the person who gave me his blood.

    now that i read it, its so cheesy line...it should b

    My hands and face are smeared into blood. Its a strange thing, that it is the blood of the person whose blood flows in veins.

    mann i m damm bad critic!!!

    ReplyDelete
  10. Hey Sid, I was talking about Shilpa Garg.. here's link 2 her post.. http://shilpaagarg.blogspot.com/2009/09/fridays-55-fiction-far-from-perfect-or.html

    ReplyDelete
  11. @Guria
    thanks....you stretch a rubber too long and it will snap, and u will get hurt!!! :)

    ReplyDelete
  12. ok i saw that one, and did not realize it was on child abuse...silly me...gotta linkback.

    ReplyDelete
  13. Oh my! violent :P it really is not for weak minds :) good one sid!

    ReplyDelete
  14. hey read my take on this
    http://rahulsharmaspeaks.blogspot.com/2009/10/also-it-felt-good.html

    ReplyDelete
  15. well incest ...is the most unforgivable ahhh..i had a frnd whose cousin did tat wth her...n she ws depressed..totally going away fom the opp sex...hmmm

    well nice way to bring out a social evein..gr8 job re

    ReplyDelete
  16. @Priya
    I hope your friend is not safe... a little theraphy can get her life to normal.

    The story i have written above is actually what one girl narrated during a hypno session.

    The feelings should be pulled off, and life becomes normal.

    ReplyDelete
  17. sad, really sad

    sensitive topic and u handled it very well!
    great!

    ReplyDelete
  18. Some really serious stuff ... very nice that you wrote a story on this issue...

    ReplyDelete
  19. A sensitive topic... on which there seem to be a 'conspiracy of silence'. No 'defenders of our culture/tradition' ever let a pip out on it... wonder why... ???

    ReplyDelete
  20. @Dmanji
    creating awareness can put a end 2 it....:) tx.

    ReplyDelete
  21. Sid , this is really a touching one.. i find it very intersting and sensitive too.. this is really a serious issue

    ReplyDelete
  22. @Neeti
    Thanks...it is based on real experience...:)

    ReplyDelete
  23. Can we please request u to add our badge to the post

    thanks for sending the link

    ReplyDelete

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