An Eye for an Eye, by Swati Moheet Agrawal
Come three a.m. she would be sitting at the dark granite countertop, lights ablaze, downing a bucketful of Tiramisu. She was sick and tired of practicing self-control, trying to keep the monsters from sneaking out of their hiding place. She could only feel hate, self-hate, for being cowardly all that time, and for avenging it years later. She thought she could stave off the grief of being violated by violating his five-year old son. Children never forget, and she knew that firsthand. How would she ever redeem her soul? An eye for an eye makes one more miserable than ever.
Swapan k Banerjee
27/11/2020 10:25:36 am
Great realization, Swati.
27/11/2020 10:28:16 pm
This was horrifying. The undercurrent of abuse made me cringe. A very graphic piece.
28/11/2020 01:28:33 am
The sins of the parents visited on the children. We are not born abusive, we learn by example. Let's hope this child ignores her teaching. I agree with Mary. Graphic.
Susan F. Reid
28/11/2020 02:23:34 pm
Wow. This is a really dark, nicely written story.
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