Unforgivable

You know at times, you paint a beautiful picture of life, happily ignoring the facts that are staring straight back at you. The facts that life is and never will be a bed of roses and that sadness is inevitable. And you question, "Why must there be sadness in this world?" Then you decide that if I make out my life to be happy, I would do it the best I can.

You use colours of different shades and hues and you know that this is the perfect life you want, the perfect life you wish for. The perfect life you long for. Nothing can stop you because your determination is strong and you know how to fight for your own happiness. You know that you can always tell yourself "I can try again if I fail." And you question, "Who can stop me but myself?"

Day after day, ignorant, innocent, and gullible, you continued painting with your splashes of canary yellow and bright orange without a care in the world because? You believed that Destiny lay in your own hands and it is up to you to decide your Fate because everything is in your mind; you decide what you want to do with your life and there is nothing anyone can do about it because that is how you've chosen to lead your life. And you question, "What could ever go wrong?"

But today was different, you noticed that there were dark shades lurking in some corners of your painting. You try hard to cover them up with your bright colours, in vain. And this is the point in your life where you find out that;



Everything was an outright lie.

And you question, "What is Life?"

.....

And this is where I start, the story of a beautiful painting, the story of a tattered dream, the story of my life.

.....

"What is your greatest fear, Karen?"

"My greatest fear?"

"Yes, your greatest fear."

"Death?"

She took out the white mittens from her left pocket and hastened to put them on to fight against the increasing cold wind that had started to pick up after the dark clouds had started to litter the sky, signaling imminent rain. She heaved a huge sigh and sought to quicken her pace. She wouldn't want to be caught in the rain as she clearly knew that she caught colds easily and who would want to have a sick person attend a birthday party?



The clouds were gathering quickly with every step that she took. There weren't any shelters around, only trees, trees and more trees and her mother told her that it wasn't a very good idea to take shelter under a tree during a thunderstorm. It was getting darker and she still had not reached the God-forsaken place. Who wanted a party accompanied by a thunderstorm and worse, in a secluded house out of reach of public transport? She looked at her watch which blinked 17:30. She was going to be terribly late and what were they going to say about her?



She was cursing the weather when something brushed against her shoulder. She stopped abruptly and expected to hit into something as people usually did if someone was patting them from the back, but nothing of that sort happened. Even in the bitter cold, she felt frozen head down. She momentarily looked up to the sky and closed her eyes shut tight. "Nothing happened," she told herself. Someone once told her that you shouldn't try to look for a ghost behind you but if you want to, look to your right and it won't disturb you, look to the left and...she shuddered the thought off her mind.



She started walking, this time, faster. She was walking so fast she didn't see the crack on the ground where her right foot conveniently slipped into and forced her into a spread eagle position forwards. She cursed inaudibly and felt a searing pain in her right ankle. She knew what this meant yet she still tried her best to pick herself up. A bruise was starting to form. She took a quick look behind to find nobody there. She heard the loud roaring of thunder and squealed. There was nothing much she could do with a sprained ankle and an imagination running wild. She took out her cell when a single drop fell on the screen. More drops came and she just sat there, defeated, letting the rain consume her wholly. She didn't know why but she started crying. She brought her knees up to her chin, hoping it would fight the cold. Everyone should already be at the party by now and nobody would have noticed her absence and she would stay here all alone, until the rain stopped and until she felt that she could walk steadily.



She buried her face in her knees, still crying but who could see her? The rain was washing away her tears as she wept anyway. She felt the rain stop pounding her head but she could still hear the white noise ringing in her ears. Was her imagination playing tricks on her again? She felt her surroundings growing a bit darker. She froze, second time that day when she heard a voice.



"Karen?"



She looked up to see a kindly face looking down at her. The face broke into a tiny smile. The person held out a hand to help her up but she shook her head and pointed a finger to her ankle. The person nodded and held out the umbrella for her to hold. The person then went into a squatting position and urged her to get on. She did as she was told. The person started walking.



"Has the party started?" Karen asked softly,

"How long have you been here?"

"I don't know? What time is it?" Karen continued.

"Sorry for keeping you waiting."

"No, no, it was my-"

"When it started raining, I knew I had to come and get you..."

"Thanks Rupert..."



And silence ensued all the way to the house. When they finally reached the place, the house looked dark and there wasn't a sound besides the white noise of the rain. Rupert gently pushed the wrought iron gates with his sides and carefully walked down the wet path, careful to avoid a slip. Karen was puzzled. There was supposed to be a birthday party and yet, the house was dark and it looked chilling. He settled her down on the porch bench and took a look at her now badly bruised ankle. Then, he straightened himself and knocked on the huge wooden doors. The door opened slightly and he carried Karen bridal style into the house.



The atmosphere was still, unnerving and foreboding. She could see that there were a couple of dim lights illuminating the room. Rupert settled her down on a nearby couch and closed the door. Everyone present looked at her and she felt a tinge of guilt overcoming her. Had the party been spoilt because of her? Rupert had come back with a bag of ice cubes. He pulled a chair in front of her and took off her shoes and socks. Karen hadn't noticed the damp cloth in his other hand. He carefully wiped her foot and placed the bag of ice on the bruise.



Nobody said a word.



Karen, starting to feel uneasy, muttered, "I'm sorry for being late guys but what's up? Why is the house so dark? Isn't there supposed to be a birthday party?"



She then saw that everyone had sighed and looked in different directions but nobody answered her. After a good 20 minutes, Rupert took away the bag of ice and wiped her foot once more. He left the room with Karen facing 8 solemn expressions of her friends. Why wasn't anybody telling her anything? She looked around the room, something was amiss. She looked around once more and it struck her.



"Guys, where is..." she started as Rupert walked back into the living room.

"He's dead," Rupert said simply as he handed Karen a glass of water.

"He's what?" Karen said disbelievingly.

"He's dead," Rupert said once again.