The White Frock and the Broken Doll
“I think this is the last stop, mate.” Someone tapped on my shoulders. I could not feel my legs. I stumbled and fell in the compartment; he tried to pick me up. “Get your hands off me.” I glared at him. “You are too drunk. Where are you going?” I did not listen. I just tiptoed around the compartment and got off the train. Something was eating me from inside, slowly poisoning every part of me that ever felt alive. I was dragging my feet on the roads. I could hear vehicles honking, drivers shouting, and the madness that this city is. Crawling, I made my way to the graveyard while tightly holding a white frock and a broken doll to my chest. It was almost midnight. Leafs were ruffling with breeze and there was no sign of any living being. I opened the gate, tearing through the silence of the night. I slowly started walking towards her. She was beautiful too, just like this frock. She was so precious…my sister, Ilina. She had big eyes ...