The world is a stage and we, the creations of the Almighty are mere actors playing our parts. Life is a journey and every single person in this world has got a different story to verbalize.
Life was almost perfect for Jenny. She was loved and adored by everyone. Though her parents were not rich, yet she could find happiness in small joys of life may it be the chirpy birds that coos or the nature stuffed with the beautiful yet astonishing wonders like the Moon or stars. Fairy tales are so much easier to blend in and its happiness is just like a soap-bubble. And how much pleasure it may shower you with, it doesn’t last forever.
Jenny was on her way to school with her parents. She always liked to sit between her father and mother on the scooter. She had just closed her eyes like she did to feel the wind on her face when in a flash of seconds, her life transformed. When she opened her eyes, she found herself amidst the unfamiliarity of a place. Her head was spinning like a cart-wheel and her vision was hazy. She tried to jerk free and move but a hand stopped her.
She saw her aunt sitting on a chair next to her.
“Where am I? Where are mom and dad?”
Aunt replied, “Jenny, you are in the hospital. A lorry hit the scooter and you were badly injured.”
“But where are mom and dad?” Jenny questioned her aunt.
Aunt said, “Jenny I am very sorry. The doctors could not save your parents.” Jenny was too shocked to voice some mere words. Just a few hours ago she was enveloped with happiness being with her parents. The world had crumbled under someone’s feet and she couldn’t even do anything.
The next day, aunt took Jenny to her abode that she called home. It was a one bedroom congested flat. Jenny took in her room and did not meet anyone for five days. She was stuck in the darkness of the room that synced with the melancholy of her heart. She would just watch the dawn break into a new day and set for its evening. She would watch the kids playing in the park and then hurrying home with their parents. And then she would reminisce about the good old days she had spent with her parents, she would reminisce about the dreams in her eyes and the passion in her heart that every fifteen year old girl possessed at her age.
One evening, her aunt came to Jenny’s room and handed her an exquisite clothes and a make-up kit.
“Get ready Jenny. We need to go out.” Jenny followed the orders of her aunt on her instincts. Aunt took Jenny to a crowded street where everyone was dressed up in glittery clothes and packed with bright cakes of make-up. Jenny started feeling a bit conscious.
They went to a shabby house that looked like one of the cheap motels Jenny had seen in movies. Aunt conversed with a man and took her to a room. The room was dimly lit and displaced. Aunt smiled at Jenny and said, “Jenny stay in this room. Be nice to everyone who visits here and if someone asks your name don’t mention it as Jenny but a fake like Charlie”, saying this her aunt left the room.
Jenny sat on the bed quietly baffled to the words left from her aunt’s lips. She was feeling insanely uncomfortable succumbed to the aura of the place. Suddenly she heard the door open. She watched a man in his early forties enter the room. The man started pacing towards her slowly. Jenny could her the rash breathing of her heart, awkwardness crying out at its peak. The man touched her cheek and caressed it. She couldn’t understand anything but her mere voices of protests died in her throat. She tried to jerk away but his grip on hers was firm. The things that sequentially followed was no less than a crazy nightmare. She couldn’t move, nor could she voice the pain in her heart that screeched aloud. She just stared at the white, worn out ceiling and tears dried in her eyes.
The next morning she found her aunt in her room. She didn’t say a single word to her aunt.
“Jenny, I will explain you. Please understand I am not rich. I cannot afford to send you to school. This was the only solution.” Jenny turned around and whispered, “I don’t know any Jenny. My name is Charlie.”
Every night Jenny would go to that place and meet the customers and satisfy their desires and quench their thirst. It became a routine for her. She didn’t had a heart anymore, she didn’t even recognize that image when she stood before a mirror. She had forgotten the Jenny who used relish the little joys of life. Everyone knew her as Charlie, Charlie-the hooker. Every night the customers would phrase their heart out in front of her and she would patiently perceive those heart-aches. She had her pain, her remorse that ate her away moment by moment and the untold grief in her heart stuffed up. She always craved silently for loved and care but she was just an object, a toy to quench the needs of men for just a night and thrown away the next day.
One night Charlie fleeted in the strings of a dream. She herself holding someone’s hand, the hand of her mother and caress of her father. She could feel the protection of her father and the care shadowed motherly love. The moment she opened her eyes she found herself stuck at some place she could hardly even recognize. She felt like an actor trapped in a recondite play with no hint of the plot or narration. She resolved her unknown puzzles and realized the solution that triggered in her mind. She knew there was one way she could have the love, the care she craved and longed for. She stepped up to the terrace with battled emotions and with the whims of her inner voices she took the last step of her life, the last flight that she thought would unlock her freedom.
As the dawn broke, people noticed a body lying on the road smeared in blood. The crowd gathered around her but dismissed the idea of knowing her. The police were called to investigate the matter and finally dropped the case without the proof of any evidence. Her body was buried at the local church graveyard as a customary infliction on the people. No one stepped to her funeral, no one placed the flowers of love at her grave. She was an embodiment, a mere toy in people’s life, a forgotten thing that the world would never miss. But no one knew the melancholy resided in her heart, the untold grief that had killed her even though the body lived on.