I stood in the middle of the room, looking at the open door, at the chipped tile. The memories of that horrifying night flooded my mind. All that blood, all that pain. Tears welled in my eyes. It wasn’t deserved, it wasn’t right what they did. But what was right was what came to them. All of them.
Inez awaited the bus, but after five minutes, her patience ran out. Thereupon, she hailed a taxi. Upon arriving at the school, she paid more than what the chauffeur had demanded, and sprinted through the chief corridor right into reception, her heavy breathings heard by every student that passed by.
The rooster ran out of the coop, jumped onto the pole, and puffing its chest out, cried out to the twilight heavens with all its might. Then, it looked down at the sleeping village, looked up, and cried out again just as the group was leaving its gates towards the Ung’ Mountains, where the sun nearly woke.
Her bedroom window parallels her line of sight. Her bed seems so small and foreign from the outside. The quilt that Mother knitted for her lies crumpled on the end of her bed, a sign of someone who left the room in haste this morning. She gets the uncomfortable sense that she is spying on her own life and the even more uneasy thought that someone — or something — is spying back.