She chose her cleanest piece of clothing to wear. It was a festival afterall and she wanted to celebrate like everyone else. As she stepped into the street a speeding car drove by, splashing dirty water on her. A tear rolled down her cheek. The poor had no right to celebrate... Her pale yellow looking dress, the only one she had with no patches or stains was now loaded with mud spots and dirt.
She was all broken, yet managed to ignore while cleaning herself with the used paper that was lying nearby. while doing so, she missed out when the car stopped and the man driving walked up to her.
She looked up, there stood a well dressed man, with a presence to acknowledge. Before she could say something, he turned around, opening the boot of his car, he took out a bag and handed it to her.
Hesitantly she took the bag and peeped in, only to find 4 beautiful dresses never seen before.
She looked up at him, all he had to say was, "you need this more than anyone else".
All she could do was smile back an say Thank you.
He started it that day as a gesture to make up for his mistake, and it became a routine for Every festival he went shopping.
Why?.....because someone once did the same for him.
The noise was too loud, almost as if someone was using a drill machine in his head. He craned his head to relieve the cramp in his neck. When he couldn't move he realised where he was; in a coffin deep in the confines of an airplane... The suffocated air, the closed space was getting uneasy with every passing minute.
The sound could still be heard, but try as much he could not move.
A tingling sensation slowly encompassed his entre body and a faint beep was heard in a distance but he was too drowsy to see any thing. She came running to his room, found him shivering helplessly in his sleep.
The sleep paralysis accompanied by the horrors of the army massacre made his sleep a night mare hard to get out from. But she was there and he could feel it. How do I know?
I experienced everything, with my eyes, and see what love is capable of doing.