‘Life is a cycle, one with precise destinations and timing, a cycle that has a necessary order.’ They said.

They also told her how everything had to be. From Primary school, to High school, to College, then your Degree, backed by a Job, followed by Marriage, and definitely Babies. This order became the pillar of her world. An attempt to derail from the order is treason and is punishable by death.

 Holding onto the pillar with blood on her hands. A longing to feel the wholeness she once felt. She’s twenty two with a degree, Twenty when her life shattered and the shards threatened to disrupt the order.

  Father mustn’t know, Mother can’t be told. Why is a new life an abomination? Because it doesn’t fit in the right place? A demeaning mentality. Why is it her cross to bear? Because she got herself pregnant? Because she slipped and drowned in the 9% ineffective circle of oral contraceptives?

  There can be no stains on her white satin garment. She carries her cross, yet she can’t ask her father if there’s another way. But how much is too much?

  She took it upon herself to put her life cycle back in order. In the blink of an eye, hands drenched in blood and her heart longing for ‘treason’. Was it truly her choice? Or the “Invisible Order” never gave her one?

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