She stared back at me. Deep, dark eyes. Mixed with fear and uncertainty, blended in anticipation and hope. Tried to speak. But something stopped her. A force, a faint shadow loomed behind her. It held her rigidly, yet not tightly. Her struggle pushed her back slightly, but she stood there. Waiting to be seen, waiting to reveal the shadow.
I felt it too. I felt the same shiver that went down her spine. I felt her fog of heavy breaths. I felt the boiling rush of blood down her body. I reached out my arm, to pull her, only to realise, I was a tad too late. I had already lost her. She disappeared as quietly as she had emerged, leaving behind a weak, lingering whisper just loud enough for me to hear, unmistakably.
The last glimpse I caught of her was of her eyes, now fiery red. With anger and disappointment. She disappeared, not never to be seen again. She will emerge, again, loud and bright. I know she doesn’t need me. She is stronger, than me.
Lakshmi Haridas is an undergraduate from the Tata Institute of Social Sciences, who likes to define herself as “confused, delusional and inconsistent”. Apart from the obsession for learning new languages, she likes to keep herself busy and entertained with glass painting, reading, travelling, writing (a recent discovery), walking, arguing over (mostly) trivial matters and doing absolutely nothing! Here’s the link to her twitter page: https://twitter.com/yours_anonymous