The Brain Blog

On this most auspacious night, who would have thought one would stumble upon a hole in a wall, only to relish a shard of glass written with the greatest story ever told. Screening through the object, I couldn’t resist as my lips quiver on every line, every word, every meaning that was to it. I felt what the writer had felt, I saw what he saw, I held what he held. there were moments till I had noticed tears were rolling down my cheek.

“I know there is no way that I can convince you that this is not one of their tricks. But I don’t care. I am me. I don’t think I will live any longer and I wanted to tell someone about my life. This is the only autobiography that I will ever write, and, oh god, I am writing this on a shard of glass, with crimson red. My blood. It was the only ink I could find in this torture chamber of human sacrifice.

I was born in a hick town undeserved of a name. I don’t remember much but I do remember the rain tapping on my window pane as I counted the raindrops pouring down like a mother’s love. It always felt like home. When I was 17, I fell in love with girl, her name was christine. She had the most beautiful eyes I’d ever laid on. She had the perfect body, the perfect woman. I thought we could love each other forever. I remember our teacher telling us it was an adolescent phase people grew up of.

I did. She didn’t.

Later I fell in love with another girl called Elena. That was when I came to my parents. I wasn’t so sure I could had done it without Elena holding my hands. My dad couldn’t look at me. He told me to go and never come back. My mom was left weeping in tears. It was the truth I had told. Our integrity sells so little but it is all we really have. It is the very last inch of us. And within that inch, we are free.

I moved to the big city within the years. I got the job I had ever dreamed of. It wasn’t important because of my career, but because that was how I met Isabella. We were so perfect together. I could remember we both grew violet carsons on the balcony. Our place was always smelled of roses. They were the best years of my life, until they found me and took her away.  There were no roses anymore.  I was all alone.

They injected me with chemicals. My skin is covered with purple bruises and I couldn’t feel my tongue anymore. They had drugged me and molested me and called me a criminal. They shaved my head. They had me do it against a cow before they dragged me back into this filthy, mephitic cell. All there is to me now is loneliness.

I shall die here and every inch of me shall perish.

I hope that whoever you are, you escape this place. I hope the world turns and things get better. But what I hope most is that you understand what I mean when I tell you that even I do not know you, even though I may not cry with you or hold you or kiss you or laugh with you, I love you.

With all my heart, I love you.