• Victoria Chwa

Out of Place

“What is wrong with you?” they asked her repeatedly and apathetically, but unfortunately, not rhetorically.

What could she do?

Nothing. Nothing but stare blankly at the ground and ponder over all the possible causes for her abhorrent, and possibly indubitable, abnormality. What was wrong with her? Why did she fall into the untouchable category of the out-of-the-norms? She could not find an answer and it seemed as though they were waiting for one – one that will serve as an explanation for her asininity.

In hopes of coming to a conclusion, she questioned herself – what was right about her? To her dismay, that was harder to answer, and she came to realize that there was no answer to the latter, because the answer to the former was and always would be everything.

At that instant, enmity grew within her – bitter, agonizing hatred for herself and everything erroneous about her. There was sadness in her eyes – the worst kind; the kind that resembled scars, the kind that would never disappear. Even then, the torture had only just begun. Perhaps, she thought, this internal struggle was a sign. At this point, there was no doubt that, in all that is evanescent, it was time to end the pain. There was absolutely no point in living when you had to be constantly reminded of how inadequate you are, especially in a world that is in perpetual pursuit of perfection.

Still, she felt like a stupid weakling, defeated and tormented by just a few words.

No, they were not just a few words.

They were daggers.

They were stabbing and slashing her from the inside; they have not stopped and she was certain that they would not stop.

Still, she tried to stop them.

She tried to ease the pain by letting the blood escape from her internal wounds. She took pills to silence the haunting voices in her head that have put those two deadly questions on repeat.

She was tied to the bed in a dark corner in a place for special people like her.

No, nothing was working, and she knew that.

Her heart stopped beating.

She lost touch her soul.

They were taking over her.

She could no longer think, they thought for her.

They said she was only normal if she thought that way.

She could no longer speak, they spoke for her.

They said she was only normal if she spoke that way.

She could no longer move, they moved for her.

They said she was only normal if she did what they told her to.

She began to believe them.

It was the right thing to do.

originally published: 13 Sept 2014

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