Beating Hearts

She lay there, still and numb. She held the knife close to her bosom. She remembered her mother's words.  Those words, on whose strength she had fought her toughest battles.  But today, she felt as if she was deceiving those words. Betraying the very soul of those words! She looked around, with great difficulty. She was lying in a state of shock and mess in the place where she felt the most comfortable. Oh the irony.  She looked at the coloured walls, which had her pictures, which saw her looking fresh, happy, and  real. She was pondering over her call. The next move,  The next feeling, the next heartbeat. Surely, she could manage to get that, could she not? She could feel her heart beating, a feeling which would go numb in the next few minutes. She tried turning sides, switching places (with great difficulty). The movements were like a millstone, she had hurt herself  enough already. All she had to do was, take the last stab. The last drag of the dagger, and she felt herself faltering. She clenched her fists, and took in deep breaths. She could not back away coming so close. Pain is sometimes a physical feeling, and sometimes a mental agony, that is inexpressible, it is beyond the boundaries of the usual emotions. And the best part, some people don't even care. Not an iota of care, surprisingly they are the people closest to you. She remembered all those times when she and her mother laughed and talked, and played. There was this one time, when she was unsure about how she would perform in her morning assembly and her mother had only said, "You are a genius. Geniuses are not scared of anything. Most importantly failure." But there was one thing, one tiny detail, where she went wrong. And that was failure. Failure, which does not have a prescribed description. The meaning of which varies, from person-to-person. She just saw the report card, more specifically, the printout she had taken, of her 12th grade lying next to her. She winced a little more. It contained, all that she was afraid of witnessing. Of understanding. A mere 67%. She twitched again, as the knife eased a little bit more into her stomach. She was so much more than just her report card, a distant voice called out. Could the voice save her? Could it pull her away from the edge of disaster? She kept peering at the report card, as a pool of blood formed next to her being. How could she, manage this? The topper, the perfect kid. So talented. But she was lying here. What went wrong exactly? She was the star kid, who could handle pressure and praise with equal ease. Because, there came a time, when she was too tired of handling "things". She wanted to live her life, rather than just handle things.
She wanted to be a part of greater things. It was then, that she discovered music in full swing! She learned to play the piano, self-taught herself to play the guitar. Her parents, smilingly said "It would ease the pressure on our star daughter". They would never know what the pressure was. She was growing distasteful, of the fat books- Physics and Chemistry did not really delight her! Her parents could never see that, neither could anybody else. She was dying a slow death from within, day after day. Those coaching classes, and weekly tests soon started making no sense to her. Music would bail her out everyday. Every single day. Until she discovered that the abyss was way more deep than she had though it to be. She tried explaining things to her parents, who smilingly dismissed it as a "stupid phase". 
That was not to be. Until today. Her parents were shocked on seeing the marks. They could not believe their eyes. Her father did not say a word to her, except, asking, "What went wrong with you?" He walked off after that, and did not say anything. Her mother followed suit, eyes plainly accusing her. She shut her door, post that. And now, this. She remembered her trysts. When she picked up the trophy for best speaker, her parents were there all smiles, when she bagged the "Best Student" Award , her dad cheered for her crazily. When she bagged her, first, musical award, it was then that she had felt truly happy. Fulfilled. Her dad had cheered for her that day, but today was different. She took a deep breath. Looked at the wall that was adorned with all those pictures. Of everybody smiling. And closing her eyes, slashed her wrists cut open for the last time. She had hit upon the right nerve and vein. The topper, knew what had to be done. She slowly bled to death. Reliving all her memories. The marksheet flew off to a distance, as she remembered the 90%, she had scored the year before. She smiled. She left the world, with her topper brother to carry her parent's dream forward.
She was done fighting her battles.
FINALLY. With these thoughts she breathed her LAST.


Her parents could not save her, neither, could she herself.