Incomplete

in the slow blowing wind... hearing to the fluttering of the leaves ... under the shade of the tree ... behind the soft gushing flow of the stream ... she sat ... looking into the horizon ... a half read novel in her lap... she was watching as a day in its end ... a story left incomplete ... it was picture perfect ... her white dress laying softly on green grass against the dark brown bark of the tree ... she felt a sharp pain in her stomach ... she reached for her belly and retraced her hand to find a colour which she hated ... blood red... she was bleeding profusely ... but there was no pain in her face.. for she knew what has to happen had already happened...there is no use doing those things which are of no use...tears ran along her face along with the blood ...it was a friday evening...she was wearing a cream coloured dress ... she was there because of a man she chose to spend her life with...she never knew what was in store...she dressed up well before time and went to her favourite place...under the tree..on the side of the stream...with her new novel...the day was warm...the wind was blowing softly and her hair is playing with it...she sat under the tree and started reading the book...it was about deception...she read a page and looked around...the surroundings were soothing...she saw the grass swaying...she felt the aroma of the flowers...she felt the eternal bliss of the nature...tranquility everywhere...except in her...she cant forget the night...the night before...the night in which she came to know about a bold truth...a truth she cant bear...she was completely broken...the night which told her that she was no longer loved...she felt she no longer exsisted...for betrayal was the most murderous of the feelings to have within...she thought the world is unfair...but its not the world that is unfair...its the people who live in it are unfair...she wanted to live a lie that she is loved...but truth is powerful...it overpowered her...she decided to give it up..live the truth rather than the lie...then the day came...she went up to her favourite place...where she felt only love exsisted...she sat there looking into the horizon ... a half read novel in her lap... she was watching as a day in its end ... a story left incomplete...