A lesser known world

A short story.

 

Of all the things she loved in the world, writing was dearest to her. She couldn’t imagine functioning in a world that was always in a rush. In moments when she couldn’t make up her mind about something in her life, all she would do was write. Her dearest friend made fun of her for her child-like ways, but she always defended herself, saying it was her way of finding coherence in her thoughts. Little did she know that it was not merely a hobby, but something chosen for her. Her lesser known world was, after all, going to be threatened.

She had a box full of her old journals dating back to the time she was thirteen. Now she was thirty-three, and going through those pages didn’t make her feel giggly or giddy the way they once had. It was a mountain of guilt, emotions, breakdowns, and crushes she had long lost track of. She had to get rid of them. She was getting married, and in this new life there was no place for this version of her. But how could she ever burn a part of her life which, like a dear friend, had stood by her, calmed her, and made her believe in herself?

While going through her things, she found a very dusty letter.

Dear Ellie… don’t write. Ever. You would ruin lives if you do. Not yours, but theirs.

She couldn’t believe what she had just read. How in the world could a letter be written to her when she wasn’t even born at the time? She wondered if it was someone’s prank. But no one had ever seen these journals she had hidden them long ago, embarrassed by her high-school phases.

She decided to burn the letter. It scared her. It had been in her closet all this while, waiting. Who put it there? Why would her writing destroy lives? How did any of it make sense? She thought for days and found no answer.

She planned on writing despite the warning. But every time she picked up a pen, she felt watched. Someone was watching her. Her mind was no longer hers. She could barely think, and even writing her own name felt like a crime. Her shoulders stiffened. Her breath grew shallow. She was trapped in a cage of her own thoughts. A deadly crime, she thought.

She had to confront it.

She mustered the courage to start jotting down her thoughts.

But all she could write was:

Ellie don’t write

Ellie don’t write

The entire page filled itself with the same lines. She was no longer who she had been. Lives were destroyed- not theirs, but hers.

Asmita

January'26