A journey of no return

Your palms are sweaty. A nervous tic is pulsating in your temple, and you can almost see it in in the corner of your right eye. “God! Oh, dear God! Why me!?” But no one can here you.

“Hurry up! They are coming! - Are you coming?! Hurry!!”

It’s hot, it’s humid. “Don’t switch on the lights!” You are crawling around the room, seeing with your hands, with your fingers. Your trembling fingers are pulling out draws, fumbling around, your fingers like tentacles are searching for you, your identity.

“What do I need? What do I take?” you whisper to yourself. You are still crawling around. Touching the bed, reaching towards the bookshelf. No, you can’t take any of your books. “Only one?” Yes, only one. Take it quickly before you change your mind.

The sweat on the palms of your hands is sticky. Your hair is sticking to your neck, your face, covering your eyes. It’s stinging now. Still, your tentacle fingers are searching, searching.

The suitcase is ready. Nappies? Check. Baby food. Check. Baby clothes. Check. Your identity. Check.

Under the cover of darkness, you leave. There’s nothing there for you anymore. You don’t turn back. Cradling your little angel in your arms, hauling the suitcase behind you, you walk. You walk. You walk. You don’t stop. You must not stop.

How absurd the life is?! I have read of this in books. I have seen this on telly. This is not supposed to happen to me! Your insides are screaming. Your mind is in a whirlwind of …. emotions, fear, anger, relief, gratitude, loss, unknown… What is it that you feel?

You were betrayed. Like so many others before you. You were promised a good life. You worked hard. You studied hard. You found your prince charming. You found happiness. You found… loss, emptiness, chaos, hatred, love, longing… you found… you were robbed of life that was meant to be wonderful. Remember this phrase: meant to be. No one ever told you that it will be. But you believed in fairy tales and lived happily ever after. Why did you believe? Why?!

Was it easier to believe that than to see the world for what it really is? Was it?! Tell me!!

….

I see. You still believe in fairy tales. Your eyes cannot lie. The happily ever after, ha? That’s what you’ve always wanted.

“Here, hold your mama’s hand,” you smile at your little one at your feet. She smiles at you, offering her small hand to you.

In a place you visited once before, as a teenager. Seven days of exploration, laughter, silliness. Seven days of freedom. You can still hear them, your girlfriends, laughing, teasing each other. You can see them flirting with boys. But you didn’t dare. You were proper. Good girls don’t do that. They dream of life without shackles, free. But you were not free. Your mind would not let you. You were conditioned to obey, “Yes, mama”, always “yes”. Always. What was the alternative? Yelling? Beating? Being grounded for ever? There was no point to rebel. You knew that. You knew you had to be a good girl even when you were away from it all.

Still, you had a wonderful time. You saw places. You saw mountains. You tasted freedom. Enough to sustain you. Enough to feed your imagination. Enough to show you that there is a life out there. A different one. And you knew you had to wait. Wait.

You are back. The sun is shining again, and the life looks unchanged. You are turning around, looking at the people across the road, sitting around small tables in front of the station cafe. How carefree they all look! But they are not looking at you. They are avoiding your intense gaze, you are just another traveller, just another ... but I know how you feel: small, scared, insignificant in this place that is not your own. I hear your screams that they don’t want to hear. I feel them.

How strange it is, you thought, I’m here, standing in front of those happy people with no eyes to see me. Why am I invisible to them? Why can’t they see my little one, my little innocent angel?

Yet, only last night we were in our bed. My little angel tucked in her bed, her favourite Maggy doll next to her. The warmth of the night had kept you awake. A lone mosquito buzzing around, but you could not turn on the lights. Your little angel was asleep.

”Mummy, mummy”, you opened your eyes. The sun is blazing down on you and your little angel. Tired, your smiled at her, holding her hand just a bit tighter. “Let’s go”, but your feet are rooted in the same spot. You try to move. Your lips are parched. You wish that someone would offer you a drink. They are not looking at you. They have their own lives to care about. Move. Make that step! They are not looking at you. THEY DON’T CARE.

“Let’s go”, you sighed, making the first step. Your eyes swimming with tears. No one cares, no one bats an eyelid, no one sees you. “Let’s go”, you make another step, squeezing your little one’s hand, holding your suitcase in another.

Your whole life is next to you and in that suitcase. What is it? Your little angel with innocent eyes. The suitcase with memories of one’s life. The suitcase with green and pink stripes on this hot summer day. You are holding it tight. You don’t want to lose it. The remnants of your former self.

You are not turning back. Everything is already lost. The hounds of war are getting closer, you feel them, you feel them. There’s no turning back. Your dream of happily ever after shattered into thousand pieces - seven years of bad luck to follow.

”Mummy, mummy”, your gaze averted from unseeing eyes, met her trusting gaze. You pulled her closer and made that first step. And one more. And another. And another. Towards freedom.

Suitcase in hand, you head to the station.