Ugly, I’m damn repulsive. My entire face is covered with acne. I’m only nineteen yet look like a fifty year old. Sick, I was an invalid child. Most of my early days were spent on a small bed in one corner of the room. The slightest cold would confine me, the scanty rain would render me rickety, the feeble heat would freeze me feverish, but everything changed when I entered teenage. No illness anymore once I turned thirteen. I was festive to be finally out of the fucking fissure. At last I was out in the open fields, at the ground playing with other guys, free from my desolation; but the bliss was ephemeral. Acne, Why me? And then acne happened. All the girls would scream and sprint at my sight. Boys would poke
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I was at the end of my edge. It was only the last year of my teenage, and I had lost all hope. I couldn’t live like this anymore. My head is itching. Look at the wall outside through the curtained windows. You can see the yellow bricks reflected in the orange street light. It is precisely twelve: midnight - I’m exactly nineteen. My nose is tingling. Look at the clock corroding on the wall: tick, tack, tick. You can’t see it as the room is dark; still you know exactly where it is. How the tick-tack of the second hand matches with the dhuk-dhuk of a forlorn heart. My back is pricking. Look at the thin strip of yellow light falling upon the bed through a small gap in the curtains. In the darkness, I’m lying wide awake as it is the day I was cursed. Damn this itch. I have stopped taking bath for weeks. How many days since I last washed my face? Guess it’s been almost a month. What is the use of washing this cratered face? It's not that I didn’t try, I did; I applied everything to cleanse the damn thorns, but they won’t go. They won’t leave me, so I gave up. Defeated - yes, I …show more content…
Yes, I’m back again at the edge. No one would believe me if I were to tell that I can travel back in time. I don’t give a damn about what people believe or not. The truth shall always remain the same; and the truth is I can travel back in time. I don’t know how or why. There is no special mantra either. I just have to gather the will to get back in time; and somehow by some sorcery I’m shipped back in time, even if it is for just five seconds. That is how I’m standing back at the edge of the bridge again. It took me quite a time to figure this out myself. After that failed suicide attempt I nearly went mad, but when I slowly realized my power, everything got restored back to normalcy. Five Seconds! What can a man do if he can go back in time for just five seconds? – Zilch, practically almost nothing. It was one week after the suicide incident that I realized my power and started experimenting with time. It took me almost a day to exactly calculate the limit of my time travel as precisely five seconds. I was damn frustrated with the realization that I couldn’t go beyond five seconds however hard I tried. What a useless power! What a joke! Nature sure likes playing cruel pranks with me. What can a man do in five
I was at the end of my edge. It was only the last year of my teenage, and I had lost all hope. I couldn’t live like this anymore. My head is itching. Look at the wall outside through the curtained windows. You can see the yellow bricks reflected in the orange street light. It is precisely twelve: midnight - I’m exactly nineteen. My nose is tingling. Look at the clock corroding on the wall: tick, tack, tick. You can’t see it as the room is dark; still you know exactly where it is. How the tick-tack of the second hand matches with the dhuk-dhuk of a forlorn heart. My back is pricking. Look at the thin strip of yellow light falling upon the bed through a small gap in the curtains. In the darkness, I’m lying wide awake as it is the day I was cursed. Damn this itch. I have stopped taking bath for weeks. How many days since I last washed my face? Guess it’s been almost a month. What is the use of washing this cratered face? It's not that I didn’t try, I did; I applied everything to cleanse the damn thorns, but they won’t go. They won’t leave me, so I gave up. Defeated - yes, I …show more content…
Yes, I’m back again at the edge. No one would believe me if I were to tell that I can travel back in time. I don’t give a damn about what people believe or not. The truth shall always remain the same; and the truth is I can travel back in time. I don’t know how or why. There is no special mantra either. I just have to gather the will to get back in time; and somehow by some sorcery I’m shipped back in time, even if it is for just five seconds. That is how I’m standing back at the edge of the bridge again. It took me quite a time to figure this out myself. After that failed suicide attempt I nearly went mad, but when I slowly realized my power, everything got restored back to normalcy. Five Seconds! What can a man do if he can go back in time for just five seconds? – Zilch, practically almost nothing. It was one week after the suicide incident that I realized my power and started experimenting with time. It took me almost a day to exactly calculate the limit of my time travel as precisely five seconds. I was damn frustrated with the realization that I couldn’t go beyond five seconds however hard I tried. What a useless power! What a joke! Nature sure likes playing cruel pranks with me. What can a man do in five