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Evil Queen and Her Puppets
She sashayed across, her long ebony gown trailing her. The enigma of the land, revered by its inhabitants, her aura carried a magic inexplicable. Every living being in the ambit bent down to its might, even the trees seemed to bow. The wind lingered in obeisance. Revelling in the power of her own power, she smiled a sinful smile in my direction; a smile dripping dark with triumph and conceit.
I failed to fathom that smile, those surroundings. I looked around at everything; everyone. This was the world I grew up in, the people I grew up with. I knew it all, and yet it was all unknown. Life revolved, and I stood there living my worst nightmare; I was a recluse in my own world. Everything that I had known, everything that I had ever believed in blazed in that moment. A bright fire danced around me, grimacing, laughing at me. Its effulgence engulfed my memories, my beliefs, and my reasons for happiness. I watched, helplessly, my whole life coming down.
They, who I believed to be mine, just stood there. The fire danced around them, it threatened to immolate them too, but not one lifted a finger. All had conceded to her, all. My eyes, dewy, lingered over them; a thousand questions lingering in them. But no one dared to look up, no one dared to meet my eyes. And each of those unmet glances shot through my heart. Each of those unanswered questions spread like venom through my veins, poisoning me from the inside. They left me a heart with an open wound.
She looked down at me, at my glinting fresh scars. A vain contentment suffused her, it was the fulfilment of a desire she long coveted. She drank to my failure, she drank to her victory. She drank to my helplessness, she drank to her power. She drank to those few moments that shattered my world; those few moments which belonged to her.
My whole life decimated to a masquerade, where she was the queen and they her puppets.
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This piece is a picture of the mental trauma that one goes through, when one single person turns your life upside down.