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Invisible

November 3, 2012

Prologue;

Love is the redeemer, love is the creator, love destroys, love goes hand in hand with hate.

When everything ends all that remains is the love, after the grief, anger and sorrow, love sits alone.

Love however is not meant to be alone, it calls out to the other and imagination of the other gives it many faces, need creating desire.

 

She sat in the cafe window gazing yet seeing nothing except the reflection of herself reflecting back her pain. She cradled her hot chocolate as though it was the last piece of the dying sun in the world and she was trying to absorb every last ray of heat and comfort. However it was dark and morbid thoughts that were invading and engulfing her mind, wondering if a widow would feel sadder or more bereft than her right now, was her loss lesser than someone who were closer to death? She clung to the pain it was safe and reassuring, after all happiness could be lost, could be destroyed. Happiness made you greedy in wanting more, blinding you to the perils of loss. However pain was just pain and pain just peaked then died and either you died with it or survived and to survive well, that was the trick. Happiness had the real sting to its tale, happiness carried the fear factor, that’s why you had to run from it.

She blinked hard bringing herself back to the moment, to her seat the cafe and to the now luke warm chocolate, to her surroundings and to her plan. The waitress didn’t look at her when she ordered her drink, not even when she brought it to the table. The waitress smiled as she served it but not directly at her, she had had to resist the temptation to turn and look to see who the recipient of that smile was, probably some invisible man sitting behind or beside her. The thought occurred to her that maybe someone else was there lurking, hiding her in his shadow, maybe that was why she was invisible, not an absence of being but eclipsed by something bigger and more powerful, how long do eclipses last she wondered.

 

She was in pain, she had bruises on the tops of her legs and arms, back and stomach all the places that do not show. Just her luck she had had a medical check-up at work last week and she had tried to get out of it but had failed miserably. The look on the doctors’ face! She felt it would haunt her until the day she died, he looked so angry, she had wanted to curl up and die, the shame, she thought he would just ignore it not be angry at her. ‘I was in a fight’ he looked at her hard. ‘Are you married?’ ‘Yes but I had an argument in a pub and it led to a fight, it’s over now it has never happened before and it won’t happen again.’ He turned his back on her, he was writing something down and a solid lump of panic lodged itself in her throat. ‘It’s nothing, no need to make a fuss’ she croaked. ‘Ok I won’t make a note of it this time but if it happens again I will, perhaps you shouldn’t go out in the evening without your husband?’ He never looked at her again, she left his room both relieved and disappointed smiling yet forcing back her tears as she wondered what conclusions he had drawn and what judgement he had delivered in his professional opinion. Somehow his subjective professional opinion had obliterated her completely. The pain from those bruises hardly bothered her now though, it was the burn on her arm that stung with a hot heat ,though not as intense as yesterday when he had pushed her down on to the blue flames on the hob. Would the GP have accepted another lame excuse for this she wondered.

 

She had snuck back into the flat earlier and now sat with all her possessions on the seat next to her, she needed to leave but yet she sat here watching what was once her home waiting for him to come home, just one last look before physically  disappearing completely. At first she had been worried that they would ask her to leave the cafe but they completely ignored her instead, which was fine at least she didn’t have to order drinks she didn’t want. The light was beginning to fade, glancing at her watch she realised he was late from work, but then that wasn’t unusual, but soon the lights would go on in the cafe and the one person that she wanted to become completely invisible too would see her and the spell would be broken and escape would become impossible. She should have left already she realised, it was foolish to remain. She wondered what time the cafe shut, unable to remember, unlike remembering the day she became invisible to the doctor, that was crystal clear. Blinking hard she realised how tired she was, her eyes were stinging and her ribs were beginning to ache in a seeming competition with the burn for her attention, she couldn’t  remember if four hours had lapsed since her last dose of pain killers, couldn’t remember if she cared anymore. Closing her eyes she became absorbed by her pain, steadying her breathing and reprimanding herself silently for her self-pity, pushing her mental and physical pain into her mental background she forced her eyes open and once again began her observation of the home she had emotionally deserted years ago and could no-longer physically hide in.

 

Why couldn’t he hurry up and come home, she needed this closure, to bid farewell and to see his confident face and charming eyes one last time, she needed to get out of this cafe and this town before anyone really looked at her noticing the obvious burn and the pain in her eyes, she both mourned and rejoiced at her invisibility, but at least it was hers. The darkness was no-longer just in her mind it was moving down the street towards her! She gripped the mug of hot chocolate so hard that her hands nearly began to reheat the half consumed drink, as panic shrieked that he was heading directly towards her, she bit her lip hard focusing on that self inflicted pain as she watched him enter the shared doorway leading to the stairs and their flat. No it was his flat, only his name was on the rental agreement as he had to have complete control, nothing was shared, nothing was acknowledged, she didn’t exist.

 

The light went on in the flat just as the light went on in the cafe, yet the light in the flat seemed extraordinarily bright, growing, growing, Growing into a bright burning hot flash. If anyone had noticed her they would have seen the light illuminating her smiling face just for a second, as she walked away from the burning debrie before disappearing into the half-light.

Epilogue;

Revenge is the redeemer. Revenge is the other, it is nurtured by pain and by hate; hate is driven by and consumes love, emptiness and loneliness remains.

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One comment

  1. Amazing.



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Caroline Criado-Perez

A Pox on the Patriarchy

feministmeup

Lady things, explained.

norfolknonaligned.wordpress.com/

"I have long argued that the giving of offence, and even hate speech, should be a moral matter but not a matter for the criminal law. That is as true on the football pitch as on the streets. We should always challenge racism. We should also always challenge attacks on liberties in the guise of faux antiracism." Kenan Malik

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