Waiting to Exit

Trigger warning: mentions of domestic and sexual abuse.

The sun filtered through the clouds, signalling the end of the rain. Within a few seconds, the white sheets lining the living room were bathed in a golden hue. Everyone was frightened that the rain would take long to end - it had been raining since last night. One could easily see a flicker of tension and devastation cross their faces rather than a look of sorrow. 

Handling the corpse for that long in wet and cold weather would be backbreaking, but due to the weather it changed for good. 

Linda knelt down near the corpse of her mother and kept staring at it. She had heard that whenever an innocent was wronged it rained cats and dogs - this did not make sense though. Why had it rained yesterday when her “respectful” father had given her mother the first and last worthy “Peace”. 

Waiting is tiring. It's like welcoming all the catastrophes time could ever give and yet have no existence. Linda had witnessed it. She had seen her mother waiting to exit. Watching her grey white hair, sunken cheeks, dark circles accompanied by a pale complexion and still fresh bruises. She now knew what it took to wait.

She was deep in thought when a glare on the photograph hanging on the wall opposite her caught Linda's attention. It was a photograph of her parents from their wedding day. Her mother looked stunning in her white gown, her face glowing while her father looked handsome in an expensive charcoal suit and leather shoes. Staring at her with eyes demanding obedience. Is love really blind? Had her mother not seen what the future beheld in his eyes? Why had it not rained every time her father beat her mother like a wild animal? Why did the earth not shake when he sexually abused her? Where had namely justice gone when her father was the cause of her mother’s abortion, twice. Why then had it rained the previous night?

It was a night to celebrate and rejoice the end of her mother’s wait and oppression. Finally her father succeeded in killing her in his routine beatings. She had been waiting to exit for 22 years and had borne every wrong beyond comprehension. Now the question was: how long would Linda have to wait to exit the roof under which her mother's murderer breathes alongside her.

a flash fiction by Maryam Jilani