The memory of yesterday
The sound pierced the darkness, shattering the silence of the night. She woke, heart racing, head pounding. It was the fourth time this week. Sleep broken by her own shrieks. She groped around her bedside table with one hand, searching for the glass of water she had placed there before going to bed, and with the other, she reached for the pills. She didn't want the invasive light on, the blackness somehow felt calming. Sip by sip, her pulse normalised, all the while her eyes flickering from side to side, as she rummaged through the images in her mind. Nothing seemed to make sense, so many muddled pictures but the puzzle pieces weren't connecting. Shards from a life long forgotten. Semblances of the past. It seems wherever she goes, there's no escape.
Laying in the dark, but now far too pre-occupied to fall asleep again. Anisa sits and lets the event of the nightmare play over in her mind. Everything is confused, the reality of what happened distorted by time and dream. She thought she was over it by now, that after everything she had done, leaving that place and every one involved that she could move on. But it seems her mind had other intentions. Anisa sits up, and turns on the bedside lamp and pads barefoot to the bathroom. She splashes some cold water onto her face and stares at herself. Her eyes, rimmed red of the tears, the weariness showing clearly in the reflection. She knows now, that no matter how she ran, eventually the past catches up with you.
How did he know she was here? Maybe the whole 'urban legend' about, sperm cells fitted with micro-sized trackers was actually true. But how did he know she would fall pregnant from just one encounter? Her stomach lurched as she relived the most amazing sexual encounter of her life. It had occurred three months before, at the top of a cliff with the waves crashing violently below, as the sheets of falling rain left them drenched. The past three months has taught her two things; firstly, that when we 'mess' up, our parents are not as upset with us, as they are about the fact that the future which they envisaged for themselves regarding us, is no longer possible. Secondly, that when we love, we can do it only for our own sake, because the feelings of the one we love are as far beyond our control, as the ability of the US forces in Afghanistan to find Osama.
As if she called him to her side, there's a knock at the door, heart racing, she knows. She opens the door expectantly, and is not surprised to see him there. Self consciously she moves towards the window on the other side of the room, not understanding why she needs space between them. He grabs her waist, and kisses her in the nape of her neck. With that one touch, she knows that everything that's happened in the past pales into significance. And that is her last coherent thought as she the myriad of lights explode within her.
With her hopes high, she watches him expectantly, thinking he has finally come home, but the look in his eyes shows the steely willpower that she doesn't want to see. She looks at him and realizes that she is nothing more than a body to satisfy…
The loneliness that he feels, draws him like a magnet to her. Fleeting moments of physical intimacy are what keeps him coming back. But Anisa needs more than just that. The nightmares keep coming back, wrenching her from sleep like a baby being wrenched from a womb. In her moments of solitude, the encounters of the past 3 months, keep her warm, safe and loved. But the reality of seeing him there, the look in his eyes, makes her feel anything but safe. Has he found out the secret that she harbours within? Can he read her soul? Does he know that as he comes and goes...she too has moved on...juggling physical pleasure from him and intellectual stimulation from her husband. Has her past and present caught up with her? The front door opens...'Honey, I'm home'....
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