That night I lay on my back gazing at the ceiling above waiting for it to slowly turn black. Waiting for that natural light to withdraw its duty for that night. As I was staring at the ceiling I could see each part of that roof losing its ability to show colors, it was dominated by that one color which is so powerful that it is used to define a personality, which is viewed as poisonous when present with a liquid which makes us say “dark”. They told me that my punishment was to stay alone today, there were many reasons I was told as if I had asked for it. But can we really be alone? Is it really possible? I highly doubt, even with the absence of flesh and bone beside me, I never felt that I was ever alone. I have always considered that we walk around holding one more person within us. Maybe that person only comprises of the upper part of my body, someone hiding beneath my hair.
Even without a single person in my vicinity, it keeps talking. Keeps asking me questions whose answers are known only to him. They say it is a part of me. He knows what I know. I do not agree, if it were true why won’t it just stop talking. I just really want to be alone. People, words and voices have made me ache, I do not want it anymore. I never wished for my life to take that one turn which I was avoiding since I saw how black it was. They say there are many roads in life from which there is no turning back, they make it sound like life is a curse, with the difference that it is real. With so many words ringing in my mind by just laying back and watching the roof, how am I alone? It’s invading my privacy. Few years back I was just a desperate child, hunting for these unspoken and unreal questions, but now when I see through that glass, I find that there are no answers. They are just questions.
Today I don’t mind people as long as I get to slit their throat and see that red liquid falling on my fingers, to see them lose breathe not of love but because of my sword. I don’t care about talking to people anymore as long as I can end their speech in mid sentence, but this thing in my head, it challenges me. I cannot get rid of him. It is like a parasite, I am getting something from him and in return it is giving me these questions. I do not believe when people say that they can control minds. Minds are lone creatures, each giving us enough access but at the same time blocking us from control. Now I only lay down on my back watching the ceiling which is long disappeared leaving it dark and I let the questions flow.