Q. Write a story, true or imaginary, entitled, ‘The final breath’ by Zara Irfan 10E


Coming from a family where sophistication is the basic element of life can sometimes become exuberantly toxic. Riches and silk is all she had been taught about ever since she was a child, and she couldn’t help but ponder over how her life might have been if she wasn’t born in her family.

“Sophia don’t eat that”, “Sophia that’s unladylike”, “Sophia hands on your lap”, these voices echoed in her mind whenever she was about to do anything, till the point she couldn’t muster up the courage to simply breathe. Anxiety, anxiety, anxiety. It followed everywhere she stepped.
Panic attacks came and went occasionally, and her tears? They would cascade down her face every night like an isolated waterfall hidden between the mightiest of trees. Her screams of agony got muffled within the satin covers of her pillows, but she was utterly, utterly  helpless like a caged bird.
“Knock, knock”, came the sound of the massive doors of her bedroom. “Come in please,” her voice, as delicate as a rose, resounded in the silent room. That was all she said as she hurriedly fixed posture and rubbed the non-existent dust off her emerald gown.
The mahogany doorknobs turned and in came her deviously beautiful mother with all of her marvel and grace. Her dress glittered under the beaming sun rays coming through the windows perched upon her (rather elegant) dresser, and the sight made her uncomfortable- intimidated even.
“I have something to discuss with you Sophia,” her mother stated in her very high-pitched (but authoritative) voice. “Do you remember Charlie? Your father’s friend’s son. Oh! What a lovely young man”, she said, trying to imply something.
“Yes mother, the one that brought you that marvelous vase for your flowers?” Her mother slightly nodded. “Yes, he was very… nice.”
“Well that’s music to my ears! Your father and i have decided to have you two courted to each other. What a lovely young couple you two would make?”
And that was her breaking point. “She couldn’t do this to me. She couldn’t take the last bit of sanity left within me. She couldn’t give me off to a complete stranger. I didn’t love him. Hell! I didn’t even know him,” was what her thoughts conflicted about in her mind, and finally, after twenty three years of her life, she finally gathered up the courage to say this single word.
Her breathing became ragged and she couldn’t process what was happening anymore.
“No? Young lady, you are exceeding your limits. Is that how you talk to your mother? I have taught you better than to talk back to me,” her mother said, almost screaming, in a gravely tone.
“You cannot do this to me mother! I am not a toy, not a play thing with whom you can do anything with! I am an adult, i have my own life-“
“Slap!” her sorry excuse of a mother back-handed her across her cheeks, but she couldn’t feel the pain, the sting. Not anymore. “I will lock you up in this room if i have to,” her mother dropped the final bomb and stormed out of the room, banging the impossibly perfect doors in the way.
Sophia knew she couldn’t do anything to prevent what was about to happen. Her fate had already been carved on a stone and there was nothing she could do to change it. So the last alternative she could think of was grave.
That was all she could think about as darkness loomed around every crevice of her body. The sadness in her life had tainted every chance of happiness she had. Her family had destroyed her entirely that even the thought of passing away didn’t scare her. And so, with her mind made, she strolled towards her bathroom with calculated steps, entirely emotionless and not a single tear flooding her cheeks, not a single thought that second guessed her decision.
She picked up the blade, which felt as light as a feather in her frail hands, and brought it up to her wrist, finally towards the path of freedom.
“Drip, drip, drip,” she heard the blood splatter on the polished and tiled floor.
Her subconscious wandered off to different times of her life. In the first period, she saw herself as a child trying to sneak a bar of chocolate into her room, only to be caught and scolded at by the housekeeper. Then, it strolled of to her fourteenth birthday when all she wanted was to eat another slice of cake. She remembered how delicious and utterly scrumptious it looked and how she wanted to devour it.
And finally, with a smile plastered on her face, she breathed her final breath.

About froebelianwriters

I am an English Language teacher teaching O'Levels Edexcel and CIE A Levels at Froebel's International School, Islamabad. I am also working as a Subject Specialist Literacy consultant for the same school. Writing and reading has always been a passion and I try my utmost to instill these habits and hobbies in my students as well. I can be reached/contacted at fabbas227@hotmail.com or 03365287335 Happy reading!

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