The Weeping Woman
She was always there, hiding in the shadows, weeping. She remained unnoticed to others, but i felt her, whose cries were as loud as ten thousand men could shout.
She was always there, following me wherever i go. Weeping as loudly as before. I prayed she would be gone, but the heavens seemed to deny my prayers of salvation.
She was always there, and as days goes by her words came clear. Still, i denied her existence as society denied mine.
The darkness brought by the fading light of the stars was overwhelming. I started having migraines. The voices of the people around me were loud, but the voice of the woman was louder. When will it end?
Morning, noon, and night passed. I tried to talk about the weeping woman. Many ears were willing to listen, but no heart to understand.
I tried to hush her, tears roaming down my eyes. I pleaded her to stop, but she would not yield. She would only repeat the same words over and over again.
As i stared at my reflection on the mirror, no weeping woman was heard. Only my faint cries whose pain equalled to ten thousand men in agony. Holding the razor in one hand, i repeated her words,
"Death makes more cents than your life"
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