Christina Lego

It was raining and the breezing drizzle was waving the curtains through the window, on the warm couch sleeps Mrs Siyum waiting for Minyonk, her son to come home. Earlier in the morning, he flashed off with a promise to be back by noon.

Days have not been going well in the family of four. A drug-ridden house. An alcoholic husband, whose line between reality and dream has been abysmally blurred. Son alike or worse has blew Mrs Siyum’s head in regrets.
Time has proven that she is a strong lady. Always kneeling down on their behalf before those people whom his son and husband assaulted whilst on drugs. While the son tried to kill someone with a sharp sword which was kept as a family relic since ages, a few years ago and the latter, as chattel of his drunkenness eyeing perilously for maid’s hip and bust. A home surreptitiously dwindling in horror.
She loved her son the most. Her first born, he always has an important place in her heart. Instead, he is harshly abused on drug substances which made the food invisible to his mind and flesh in his body almost like an existent facade.
Over the years, she has inculcated a habit of waiting for her son to come home every time he steps out of the house no matter how much long it took him. It was the fear of him being abusing and tormenting others while high on drugs which constantly linger around her mind that made her stop thinking about her 20 year old daughter, Mimum.
While her husband sleeps on the king size bed soundly after intoxicating himself on 11 beer bottles, she rests episodically and temporarily praying to her sun god to protect her son from any evil deeds.
Few days before, while cleaning his 22 year old boy’s room, she discovered pink powdered substances on an ATM card, couple of syringes and a mug full of saliva openly lying around in the corners of a dungeon like room.
But she kept her voice down and suppressed her curiosity, in fear and in love.
A loud thunder woke her up instantly as she became desperate to gasp for a breath. As she tried to walk towards the window to close it, she mistakenly woke up the dogs sleeping encircling her.
It was raining and thundering and the sound of tin on the roof made her unaware of the disturbing barking of dogs.
Only when the wind blew to her direction, she heard a voice. A cacophonous noise, an exhaustive sound. She followed the sound while using vague of her phone flash and it led her to her daughter’s room.
On the strike of that dim black and white phone’s torch, she saw her daughter’s body on the floor, cold naked and eyes wide open. Blood splashed and spread over flowing on her way.. As she came closer, contemplating the unrest, a faint dark shadow of a person seem so close. With that dimmed flash of her phone, she caught a look that could stop everything. A scene, she never would have imagined. A moment she didn’t live for. A shadow, whose body was his son’s.

1 comment

  • hv jst finished reading ur work and i sincerely appreciated it . clearly showed the issues and ws thought- provoking. works like yours will help people to be aware of such important issues. thank you dea…

    tongku rukbo

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