Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

Blank page.

She stared at the blank page, unable to write a single word, even though she knew exactly what needed to be said.

She wanted to write. She wanted to pour out all her wild feelings in some manners harsh, because a paper was after all a paper; it won’t complain, it won’t tell anyone. It will keep what is given, it will forever keep it embossed in it like something precious.

She wanted to write utterly random words, senseless, stupid words. She wanted to mark darkest of lines, in the cruelest of ways. She wanted to define herself on that worthless piece.
Also did she long to write about those people, those that had harmed her. Those that had hurt her. Those that had crumpled her ego, her self-respect, and those for whom she had forgotten that she had a life of her own.
Life doesn’t offer good endings to everyone, dreams never come true every time, and destinies do not simply change by efforts or prayers; she wanted to tell that.

The clock kept ticking and no marks were to be seen; no lines, no words, no nothing. She kept staring hard. How must she begin? With the ending perhaps?

And what if her pen gives life to that object we call paper? What if her painful memories mold into persons? Her words into figures? She could already sense some ill-dressed, ghostly figures surrounding her.

They circled her, and looked at her blankly. They kept on staring her, and then their lips curled into some evil smiles. Then they began to laugh. Their laughter echoed everywhere. They were haunting her. She couldn’t take that much. ‘GO AWAY!’, she screamed.

Nobody heard her. She started to run towards the door so that she could escape. But alas! All exit doors had jammed. She was stuck there with those horrible faces – those names that her ink had not yet dared to speak – for the night, or for her entire life.

39 responses

  1. Love it!

    October 11, 2013 at 9:49 pm

  2. I loved the description of how powerful the written word can be. I liked the line about starting “with the ending perhaps”…I have truly began many of my stories only knowing how I wanted to end it. The rest, I usually have to connect the dots. Once again, a great piece of writing.

    October 11, 2013 at 9:51 pm

    • Endings can really be the beginnings, at times.
      I feel honored to have your feedback, for your writings always inspire me. Thank you!

      October 11, 2013 at 10:20 pm

  3. These are the melancholy reflections of a restless mind..excellently expressed in this virtual paper.
    So true.. a paper is after all a paper, it wont complain.
    but why should it anyway?? As Maria writes such beautiful thoughts into it, is there any reason to complain?๐Ÿ˜›

    October 11, 2013 at 10:30 pm

    • What if the paper ‘hates’ dark spots? What if it doesn’t like? Maybe the writer writes so violently at times, that it gets ‘teary’ and ‘tears’?
      Papers are blessed to have no tongues, but sometimes they don’t hide things.

      Thank you so much for reading and leaving your lovely words here. I am blessed to have such people like you!๐Ÿ™‚

      October 11, 2013 at 10:43 pm

      • yeah true. then perhaps paper would complain๐Ÿ™‚
        I am blessed to read from u too.

        October 11, 2013 at 10:52 pm

        • Thank you! I don’t know why I made that first (what-if’s) comment. Keep visiting!๐Ÿ™‚

          October 11, 2013 at 11:02 pm

  4. Oh Maria…Kahan se laati ho itni intense-ness ? I Loved the things you said…and Loved the feelings you didn’t write . You have the art of turning small un-noticeable happenings to meaningful and wonderful write-ups ! Loved this one. Amazing.

    October 11, 2013 at 11:15 pm

    • > “Loved the things you saidโ€ฆand Loved the feelings you didnโ€™t write”
      Only you could have done that! =)
      > Intensity lai nhi jati, ajati. Didn’t know what I was writing until it was done.
      Glad you ‘loved’ it! Thank you for visiting! =)

      October 11, 2013 at 11:20 pm

  5. Whew. Enough to make one switch to ceramics or knitting or something.

    October 12, 2013 at 1:31 am

  6. Deeeep….
    Sometimes I feel its better to keep it in your mind thab to write cz paper doesnt speak but people can read and it will be enough for them to embarrass you for the rest of your life. The reason I dont really write about my feelings. Sometime you wish to write soo much bt as soon as you take a paper and pen, swiishhhh, someone erased the ink in your head-blank!
    Maria, you know how to use the pen, I admire you for that. Masha’Allah. Keep it up๐Ÿ™‚

    October 12, 2013 at 1:43 am

    • You’re right. Paper doesn’t speak but people may read it and embarrass me for all my life. I feel so too, and when EVER i fear that, i use my pencil not to write but to draw. I can draw whatever i like (or paint or poetry) and nobody would EVER know what each line stands for.
      In my view, it is necessary to pour out feelings one way or other. Or crumpling a rough paper is helpful at times, too. I also agree on the sudden erase part too! Happens so much๐Ÿ˜‰
      Thank you for your visit and words!!
      <3,
      Maria.

      October 12, 2013 at 4:15 pm

  7. Maybe you’re getting the idea as to why White Pearl pours horrible stuff out through the keyboard. Better than trying to keep it locked in your head.

    Miss Maqsood has a point if you’re under pressure from others about your attitude or mental health but I think most folks have their own demons and will appreciate both sincerity and skill in expressing them. There’s a reason the horror genre is so popular and what many forget is that some of it’s best pioneering writers were women.

    October 12, 2013 at 7:15 am

    • You’re right. And I realized that when White Pearl asked me how I brought ‘such intensity’ to my piece. My response was that intensity isn’t brought. It just comes.
      So is her case. Her posts (you know which) do reflect horror, but if they can bring her ease then I don’t think there’s anything better.

      Thank you for your comment.

      October 12, 2013 at 4:21 pm

  8. I really enjoyed this. I could feel the pain of the character as she struggled with her demons. Very nice work!

    October 12, 2013 at 10:58 pm

    • Glad you could feel it. Thank you so much for your nice comments!

      October 12, 2013 at 11:54 pm

  9. That was surreal! Loved the twist in the mid.

    October 13, 2013 at 2:04 am

    • So glad you liked it! I an honored to have your feedback here.๐Ÿ™‚

      October 13, 2013 at 8:17 pm

  10. Maria. What can I say… Everything is said. All praise well set.
    But since the blank paper has already given me its share of terror, it’s time for me to return the favor.

    For me, this piece isn’t as much about writing and power of words, as much as it’s about belief of the author on those words… the power of her imagination, that makes her think not just the words, but also the state beyond when words become lot more than just some letters scribbled on a paper.

    “She wanted to define herself on that worthless piece.” – unbeknownst to her that it would go on to become priceless. And something that would become a cause of peace that she would attain, after successfully defeating the demons. Peace that would lend her readers a courage to unleash their imagination.

    Because more than the demons that may come alive in future, sometimes what’s necessary is to live for another battle. Strangely, each battle you fight and come surviving out of, makes you stronger for another. For all those who come out stronger than a blank sheet, become an inspiration for those who in-spite of being more complex think themselves as more void than a simple piece of paper.

    October 13, 2013 at 2:34 am

    • Okay. Ali, should I thank you for reading this and not just reading it, but actually judging those words and marking them such that it makes it so valuable?

      “Because more than the demons that may come alive in future, sometimes whatโ€™s necessary is to live for another battle.”
      Those ‘demons’ may come alive in terrible faces and those battles worst, but I agree that once the suffering survived makes it easier to ‘live for another battle’.

      Defining herself might just make the dull paper priceless, but either she doesn’t know this, or she doesn’t want to know it.
      However, it must be the only ‘perfect method’ to attain peace in the end, should she first successfully defeat the demons and live, and ‘become an inspiration’ as you call.

      Glad you came!

      October 13, 2013 at 8:42 pm

      • Maria. It’s always a pleasure reading you and interacting with you.. I’m sorry if I became somewhat judgmental, I just wanted to let you know what this piece meant to me… Also for the pieces that I adore, I’m always curious about their origination, the spark of that one thought that made them came into being.๐Ÿ™‚

        October 13, 2013 at 8:54 pm

        • Uh no. I actually liked the way you judged it so perfectly, and completely, and shared your views about it.
          I equally (or more) love reading your writings! They seem to be crafted so artistically, each and every one of them.๐Ÿ™‚

          October 13, 2013 at 9:05 pm

  11. your prose is equally beautiful mA

    October 14, 2013 at 12:16 am

  12. rjl2727

    o.k., i can relate to this one. unfortunately, most everyone i write about i’ve already lost through death, alienated by coming close (a genetic flaw of mine), or somehow pissed off. the rest tend to regard me as a lunatic to be avoided at all cost. i would complement your gift of feeling and expressing, but my limited vocabulary would make it sound tedious, trite, and leave you laughing at me, therefore i shall spare us both that awkwardness. how about – nice, nice, very nice??

    October 14, 2013 at 1:51 am

    • Never wanted someone else to relate to it.
      But guess what? Humans are bestowed with the talent of ‘changing endings’. We could change ‘Blank page’ too. The demons could fail, the author may survive. Darkness may fade too. That ‘silver lining’ they always told about, perhaps it isn’t really fake.

      About your compliments, thank you.
      Other than that, you do not need to ‘spare me’ with your thoughts ever, because as you said life is too short for that.

      October 14, 2013 at 8:07 pm

      • rjl2727

        well, i guess the deal is this: sometimes the words we write from the abyss of our soul take on a life of their own and somehow find a place to rest with someone previously unknown, and in whom a harmonic of the original hums.

        October 14, 2013 at 8:17 pm

  13. ‘She wanted to write. She wanted to pour out all her wild feelings in some manners harsh, because a paper was after all a paper; it wonโ€™t complain, it wonโ€™t tell anyone. It will keep what is given, it will forever keep it embossed in it like something precious.’

    I loved these lines !

    October 15, 2013 at 1:53 pm

    • Glad you liked ’em, and so pleased to have you here!๐Ÿ™‚

      October 15, 2013 at 4:17 pm

  14. Blank pages are wonderful things… I love them more than I love books, coffee and crayons.

    October 15, 2013 at 10:22 pm

    • I love them too. Those and sharpened pencils inspire me to write.

      October 15, 2013 at 10:29 pm

  15. Its very difficult to bring out emotions and you have proved the theory wrong . Just adorn it๐Ÿ™‚ Its so sutle yet powerful

    October 17, 2013 at 2:58 pm

  16. Rumaisa Sheikh

    It was truly a great piece of writing. The suspense, the horror and my anxiety to unravel the mystery overpowered me to read it further till the end.

    October 26, 2013 at 1:47 am

    • Hey Rumaisa!
      Thank you so much for reading and taking time to leave your wonderful feedback! Much appreciated. =)
      Keep visiting!

      October 26, 2013 at 1:57 am

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