Buried Under

"It's called 'soul murder'. That's what you're talking about, aren't you?" her hushed tones, afraid to break the silence. Amber eyes stare back at yours, waiting in anticipation. You look at her, tears forming at the corner of your eyes, unable to answer her. "Oh god..." she whispered, reaching out to hold your now trembling form, "Oh god, my baby." She cries for you, crying the tears that you refuse to let go of, holding you tightly, as if you would slip away.

Then again, you might. Just so that it would all go away; the unwanted memories that terrifies and shakes the very core of your heart. Because even though you said you're all over it now, you still can't believe that it happened to you. Till today, you can't bear to say the word out; you can't bear to tell others what happened to you. It's a heavy burden and a huge secret that you carry. One that you can't really tell others in fear of their reactions.

Some might pretend that it never happened. But you know differently. No matter how much you try to hide from it, or how far you can run from it, you know that it'll always come back. And you can't do anything to stop it. You can cover your ears and close your eyes; you can probably pull the covers over your head as well. But it'll still be there, waiting, haunting you, and never releasing you from its claws.

Others might pity you; sympathy in their eyes every time they look at you. Trying to understand what you're going through, or worse; pretending to know what you're going through. But they don't really understand; they don't really know. They can try, but they will never. And you'll hate it. Being pitied, having others pretending to understand. You just want to scream at them and call their bluff. The hypocritical people who only wish to help.

Certain people might hide from you. They'll run away, leaving you even more lonesome and insecure than before. But you can't stop them. They have a right to choose; free will, which sometimes isn't that great after all. You start doubting yourself, and stop trusting everyone. You’ll barricade yourself in, refusing to let anyone see within you. Hiding from everything and anything, losing yourself in the process. But then again, you'll never know. Not until you tell them.

Picture By : Royston Toh