Tale of a lost virgin

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Note by the writer:
Though this is a piece of fiction, a creation of my own mind, but its something very close to what is occurring in the society we live in… by only objective in writing this is to make you think, the conclusion of the tale is up to you...

Regards
Fahd A. Paracha

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Tale of a lost virgin


He looked at his cell phone, It was 5 am, time for another cigarette he thought,
Picking up his lighter he lit his favorite disease, he could not help but recall the tale, the tale she had told him…
He hated his guts he hating himself for being a man..

“15”

He recalled… 15, he thought… a innocent number, but there was nothing innocent about the tale attached to it

He wondered how she had given her heart to a man, who was nothing more than a stone.. how he had lifed her off her feets, how he had made her dream… how they all had made her dream… how they promised her they would take her away from all this and how at the end they all did the same…

“What was her sin” he wondered
“TRUST?”
“HOPE?”

And what did she get in return. ..

“REGRATE!”

They say

“Everything that happens, Happens for a reason… “

but what was the reason behind all this…
he remembered the scars she had shown him, scares from her atrocious past… what was ever gained by all this…
he remembered her saying,
he wondered,

“was it her sin, that she was beautiful… was it a sin that she was well gifted…?”

He felt like such a pig remembering how he tried to imagine how she must of looked under all those cloths… ya he was one of him… he was the same.. no matter what sympathy he may show… no matter what empathy he may of displayed… HE WAS THE SAME …
He remembered how whom ever came to know of her tale did the same, how they forced her, how they abused her, how they treated her like a second hand peace of play…
He recalled her tears the tears of her failure to keep the most precious gift she had… and how lost she had become recalling her mistake…
He recalled her tears as she told him what she had to do.. how she had to take the life of an unborn soul… he recalled her screams and that question...

“what was that child’s fault”

He recalled her telling how the society had also pointed fingers for her sin…

How they abused her…

“ya society!”

he thought,

“snakes dressed up in white, with their sins buried and forgotten deep in their chests… secretly regretting how someone had beaten them to her…”

He looked at his cell phone again, it was 6 am, how time had passed during his thought… he got up from the bed, took out some cash and placed it on the side table… he looked back at the bed, there she lay tired and asleep, aged 20 now, her innocence, still visible on her face,

he placed another cigarette on his lips,.. wondering if he would see her again,
but then again that was most unlikely…

"for tomorrow would be another night, another woman another tale…"