A Spare Room, Not an Empty One
Heroes only win in fairytales.
I knew. I knew before I left. In fact, it is why I left in the first place.
But still, the bleeding wound in my chest gushes a fresh stream and so do my exhausted eyes when I see that the doorway to the place that witnessed a human soul being shattered does not move them at all. I can almost hear their thoughts all the way from here…
“good riddance”
Yet..
The one who lied for no reason but to hurt, the one who still lies everyday, the one I protected and broke my own heart for; lives and thrives and twists the knife…rejoicing in the life bleeding away from the one she always hated, the one she did everything to break.
حَتَّىٰ إِذَا اسْتَيْأَسَ الرُّسُلُ وَظَنُّوا أَنَّهُمْ قَدْ كُذِبُوا جَاءَهُمْ نَصْرُنَا فَنُجِّيَ مَن نَّشَاءُ ۖ وَلَا يُرَدُّ بَأْسُنَا عَنِ الْقَوْمِ الْمُجْرِمِينَ (110) — يوسف
But Yusuf was a prophet, and I am eons away from that level of goodness. Will God ever show me justice in this life? I hope so, he is all merciful, and I believe he knows all, and will someday, in this life or the next, show everyone the truth…like he sent the dream to the king, and set Yusuf free.
