Part 2
‘Brenda, come here sweetheart’. A voice, as lovely as the woman who speaks them, calls a child, disturbing her play. She turns to the sound of her mother’s voice, and runs to her. Arms opened wide, ready to embrace, closes on thin air. Brenda opens her eyes to find herself, in a cemetery. Two tombstones block her way. They read, “Forever loved.” Below, was her parents name, engraved in gold. Blinded by tears, she runs away. She runs until she cannot stand it. The last thing she saw was the pale blue sky.
Young Brenda opens her eyes to find herself in a room. Sweet smells fill her nostrils, a smell of sweet fragrance fills the room. Enough to make its presence known, but not as intrusive as the choking smell of cologne. Then there was another smell, a smell that made her aware of the hunger than gnawed her insides. Cooking. The aromatic smell of food on a stove. She had awoken in an orphanage. Days, months, and years flew by. Then there was a boy, but he soon passed away of leukemia. Numbed, Brenda confined herself to her bedroom. She only left to pass motion, food was brought in by the matron. Most of the time, it was ignored. An autumn later, she left for the first time, to visit her sweetheart’s grave. She returned to find the beautiful building blackened, destroyed, burned. All that was left was its horrid skeleton. Since then, she was brought to the asylum.
In that white building, with smiling people, He often came to her, speaking soft, soothing words that eased the turmoil in her empty soul. She never saw his face, but she didn’t need to, his words were more than enough. Soon, she started speaking to him as well, and was replied, most of the time. Meals were slipped in thrice a day, and recreation times were spent in isolation. The psychiatrists were worried. She alone had not learnt to interact with another humanly being. So they decided to get rid of Him. It was for her own good, it would help her get better.
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