Tainted

By: Ayesha Nayak

do you remember that afternoon?

the one when the rain bombarded our skin with the bullet-like droplets and we giggled as the

water glued our messy hair onto our faces.

the one when we sat on top of the wet bricks outside of school and you gave me your hoodie

because my touch felt cold on your hands.

the one where i cried in your arms because of all my baggage, and you let me pour it all out as i

snuggled against your chest.

when you swore that you would always be mine, and that would always be yours, you became

my shelter.

i still remember how pure malice would flash across your face, and oh, how it terrified me.

i’ve always wanted to be delicate and petite like the other girls.

you made me feel fragile and small.

weak, instead of beautiful.

i was younger back then; i couldn’t possibly differentiate between the two.

you told me i was pretty, which was all that mattered.

i still remember when you would examine my flaws and scars, contemplating whether you liked

them or not.

whether i needed to get rid of them or not.

i wanted to be your ideal one, i did it all for you.

meals were discarded, calories were recorded.

long-sleeved, baggy shirts were my favourite.

pleasing you was my priority, i wanted the best for you because i thought you deserved it.

“you need to eat, don’t make me worry about you”, you said when you noticed.

i smiled, secretly applauding my own initiative.

i still remember how you would roll your eyes at me, and chuckle whenever i would question

your intentions, or confront your actions.

“why are you mad at me again?” you would ask yet again, laughing, despite having heard me

explain the same reasoning an infinite amount of times.

was i going insane like how you convinced me i was? surely, the emotional bruises couldn’t have

been a hallucination.

was i overreacting? of course not, it wasn’t just a nightmare.

poison dripped from your lips, trickling down your chin and towards your adam’s apple.

the sugar of the venom so sweet, it cut through the throat like a blade.

the stickiness and flavour of the honey on my tastebuds were what compelled me to stay,

regardless of the effect it had when i swallowed.

“lies. you know you’re lying”. your grip on my shoulders tightened, until i nodded.

perhaps i was. how horrible of a person was i to accuse you of doing such a thing?

i bit my tongue, and continued to swallow that venom.

i still remember the way you left me.

there had to be a moment where everything accumulated, the vapour of your contaminants

collecting in my body, in my soul.

a moment that painted every fibre of me blue.

remembering the euphoric sensation your presence gave, or the chills that would be sent up my

spine from your words wouldn’t provide me with shelter.

i had to realize that i was always yours, but you were never mine.