Blue

Dear diary,
This soul is a prisoner bound inside the body. When will the reaper finally take pity on my lacerated soul and put an end to my suffering? When will I be granted freedom from this life of pain and angst?
I do not belong here. This world is the abode of the callous and the cunning. But I am weak and the weak are food.
But I will not become food. I will not show weakness. It will be just another weight on my feeble chest and I will bear it.
I am sad, yet I do not cry. I am hungry, yet I don't eat. My chest burns, yet I do not breath. My heart pains, yet I do not speak. Still I live, though I crave to die. Is this life?
                                                                                                                        Sapphire
                                                       
Sighing her name sloppily at the end of her latest diary entry Sapphire Strange looked up at the ceiling of her tiny room. It was impossible to tell what was going through her mind, her face was completely expressionless and her startling blue eyes were blank. She heaved a weary sigh, extinguished the lamp and lay in bed. After what seemed like hours she finally dozed off into a restless sleep, punctured by disturbing visions.       
                                               
                                      ...............................................

Jash Carmichael was fiddling with the brooms in the cupboard but one of his eyes was fixed on the ancient pendulum clock swinging to and fro on the opposite wall. She's late. He wondered why. Sapphire was always punctual. She was also - he smiled - very witty. He had at first assumed her to be quiet and bashful like most other girls he met but she proved to be a horse of a different colour. Her cheeky responses to his most unnerving questions were enough to make anyone topple with laughter. Though, by far her most commendable trait was strength: she never cried nor showed any other signs of weaknesses in front of anyone.

"Crreecckk," the door opened, Jash turned around hastily and saw the familiar veil of jet-black hair accompanied by the body of a short, fourteen year old girl.

"You know when someone volunteers to help out they are expected to atleast arrive on time," he said with an arrogant smirk on his face. His expression changed completely however, when he saw her eyes. Her beautiful blue eyes were brimming with unshed tears. "Why do you hurt yourself Sapphire?" his voice was suddenly soft. So soft that had she not known better she might have mistaken it for concern.
"Why do you even care?" she replied scornfully. Even on the verge of tears her voice was leveled, coupled to this she had fused it with as much attitude as she could possibly muster in an attempt to throw him off track. But she was unsuccessful. He could see past her weak defense. Half of him was impressed and slightly amused at her determination to hide her vulnerability. But the other half realized that she was really like any ordinary girl who was suffering from desolation and anguish.

"Let it out Sapphire, please," he said solicitously. She registered the note of plea in his voice but stared at him defiantly. He placed his hands firmly on her shoulders and said in a voice stronger and more demanding, "the worst form of crying, Sapphire is when you don't show your tears."
And then without warning she had thrust her head into his chest and started crying.

                                    .........................................................

Sapphire was unable to restrain herself. His words had sent a jolt through her heart which had caused a tidal wave of tears to come flooding through her eyes. She neither knew nor cared that her face was pressed against his chest nor the fact that he had been patting her back soothingly till the last of her tears had subsided. After which he looked down at her tear streaked face and smiled.

"Feeling better Miss Blue," he inquired mischievously, the teasing tone now back in his voice. "Maybe now you could tell me what's gotten your shorts in a twist!" She scowled at him, infuriated. He was a Hyde and a Jekyll, one minute benevolent and consoling the other incompassionate and aggravating. Her scathing glare made him recoil instantly. Feeling immensely pleased by his reaction she calmed down a bit.

What had happened to her? How could she after silently enduring agony all her life, lose control like that? It was that wretched dream, her conscience answered woefully. She had visited her family's graves that night. They had been calling to her, beckoning her to come to them. She had dug into the soil with her bare hands, reaching...but.... Tears of unspoken anguish were rolling down her cheeks but she did not try to hold them back anymore.

He knows now, she thought bitterly. He knows I'm weak. He knows I'm vulnerable. She was looking at the floor, lost. Then said in a small voice, more to herself then him, "dad warned me not to cry, he warned me people would take advantage of my weaknesses..." Jash had to pin back his ears in an effort to catch every word.

"He was right," he said empathetically. She looked up, his intense gaze made her shiver. It was as though he was seeing right through her. "But sometimes life just becomes too tough, and it's always better to let that horrible, cloying feeling in the stomach out rather than waiting for it to explode," he continued with a bolstering smile. She stared; her brilliant blue eyes were locked on his soft brown ones. His discerning words had an overwhelming impact on her distressed heart.

Even now she felt some of her gloom subsiding. And with a revolted shudder she realized she did not want it to. Her pain was her only refuge. It was her endless companion, the only acquaintance she had left. Her parents and siblings had deserted her. They had dumped her in this cosmic world with its depraved inhabitants. She clenched her fists in fury and hatred. Not at her family but at herself for feeling so helpless and insignificant.

"But I am weak," she voiced her thoughts indignantly. "So weak that I don't even want to feel better, I..."

He cut across her, "Naah," he said lightly, "the way you've been putting on such a brave front these past two months at the orphanage makes you the strongest girl I've met!" he gave a short laugh. She opened her mouth to interject and tell him that not wearing your heart on your sleeves doesn't make you strong. But he continued quickly without giving her a chance, "You've got only one problem, which can easily be overcome if you just stop thinking of yourself as a broken reed, I mean seriously girl just lighten up!"

"How?" she inquired miserably. "I feel ensnared and suffocated in this ghastly place. I'm all alone, how can I lighten up? You can't understand how I feel?"

"I can understand exactly how you feel," he said with a despondent smile. "I lost my parents when I was six, I lost my only sister eight months ago." She gasped at this appalling revelation. Consumed in her own misery it had never crossed her mind that everyone at the orphanage was suffering the same way she was, however it was no consolation. "Telling you I was sad at my sister's death would be the understatement of the century, but even so it would be cold comfort," he said sympathetically. She gazed at his warm eyes and it struck her how sad they were. He seemed to apprehend the look of concern on her face and laughed. "It's okay now, all thanks to you actually."

"Me? What did I do?" She asked baffled.

"You look like her, my sister, when I look into your eyes I see Iyra staring back at me," he said beaming at her. "That's why I tease you so much, I like your company, it's almost like having her back - she made no bones about speaking her mind either!" His eyes were twinkling and she stared at him incredulously.

But then she said in a slow and serious tone, "well I don't remember my brother being this ugly but I guess I could do with you." She bit back a laugh at his annoyed expression but he realized what she was doing and at exactly the same moment both burst out laughing.

It was then that Sapphire realized something Jash had two months ago, that for those who choose to be exuberant life can very well become a bed of roses, but those bent on being blue can hardly blame life for becoming a graveyard of dejection.