Saturday, March 28, 2009
Why?
She hails a taxi, her face stained with tears. The driver pulls up,
"Where to, miss?", he asked.
She enters the cab, slamming the door shut,
"Anywhere but here." She managed to whisper.
The driver sighed slowly, this was not his first encounter with passengers like that. He started up his taxi and drove off. He intended to just go around the neighbourhood at a slow pace, so the meter would not shoot up, so that the girl had time to cry.
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. It was her new song she'd written.
Walk, she called it. The tune still fresh in her mind, tears started forming all over. Hurriedly, she crushed the paper. Almost immediately, she regretted her action. She opened the paper once more, another surge leapt at her to crush it. Hot wet droplets dripped down her chin, smudging the ink of the song. She rolled down the window and as the taxi continued moving, she let go of the paper, watching it sail to other end. She did not need the paper, the song already embedded in her heart.
It had hurt. She did not understand why. They did not tell her how, only what she did wrong. She felt the tip of her ear, the piercing was gone. She threw the stud away and into the drain on her way to the bus stop. Countless of times she had tried to send signals for help, many times she was turned away or ignored.
Couldn't people feel? She would ask herself,
Can't people tell? The taxi had made its third round from the place she boarded.
"Uncle, just drop me off here."
"Yes, yes. Sure. $6 please." he said gruffly.
She reached into her pocket, a crumpled five dollar and a dirty one dollar coin. As she passed the money to the man in front, she smiled.
"Nice meeting you," she sniffed, " Have a great day."
Then, she got out of the cab and walked all the way home.
Love,
Zoie Esther
