Rejection

When I was reading Silent Honour what struck me most out of the themes tackled by Steel in the novel was that of rejection. It really enabled me to symphatise more with the main character and her family as they went through the ordeal of feeling rejected in a foreign character due to their heritage and all its connotations. This theme triggered my memory in remembering a short story I wrote sometime ago which confronted the notion of rejection. I wrote this 4 years ago and it was through this story that I received the compliment I mentioned earlier in my first post by an ex-teacher. Here is the story. Hope you enjoy it even though it's got a melanchonic tone. You can find it also at fictionpress.com along with other snippets of my writing:

Rejection

The trees swayed, accompanied by the light breeze of that autumn evening. A solitary dog scurried down the pathway, whimpering slightly. Then, the dog, vanished round the corner and utter silence ruled again, only for a few seconds. Soon after, a black car drove slowly along the road, lighting its way by its bright headlights, which shone up the place. The car halted in front of an abandoned house and as on cue, people peered out from windows or doorways nearby to survey the scene.

The driver of the car, hurriedly and slightly reluctant began to unpack several shabby looking suitcases from the car’s boot and putting them carelessly near the doorway of the abandoned, quiet house. The back door of the car opened and a middle-aged woman dressed in a black dress and a shawl covering her dark curls stepped out. A petite three year old girl followed, promptly taking the woman’s hand, her own bouncy curls adorning her smiling but tired face. The neighbours peered closely, waiting for a man to get out of the car and thus completing a traditional family. But, he never came, and most of them looked disapprovingly at each other as the driver drove off and the mother and child made their first entrance into the lonesome house. As the door closed behind them, the gazing eyes retired into their homes, though never ceasing their judgmental thoughts throbbing into their minds.

Several years passed and the house endured a complete transformation as it now breathed a more homely look. However, its inhabitants were finding it difficult to adapt in the rural society of the village. Whispering voices and condemning looks followed them wherever they went, so much so that after seven long years, the poor child dropped out from school because she felt she couldn’t cope with all the torments while her mother in vain tried to accept the situation hoping that someday a friendly smile will reply to her own. The entire village seemed to be against the fragile woman, constantly making assumptions about her and her sorrier circumstances which they never really found out.

The day she first visited the Parish Church will always live in her memory. As she entered the humble place, her footsteps echoing down the aisle, the familiar murmurings pursued her, till they guided her to the back seat, isolating her from the rest of the community. The worst part was the priest’s sermon, who being pestered frequently by the local inhabitants, talked about unforgiving sin. His stern eyes seemed to bore into her, exposing her every single weakness. Reluctantly but forcefully she had to leave the church, to the eager delight of the other church-goers.

One day, she visited the mini-market to buy her daily supply of food. As she stepped inside the welcoming store, she noticed a group of women gathered near the vegetable stall. A smile on her face, she greeted them warmly with a chirpy voice. A hushed silence fell amongst them as slowly , they parted allowing her to take care of her needs, not out of kindness but because they cruelly wanted her out of their way. Crestfallen, she led her way to the house up the hill, her hands full of bags containing food, which she would have to share alone with her miserable, lonely daughter.

Suddenly, a boy purposely bumped into her causing her to drop her bags, as apples and oranges scurried down the hill. Everyone halted, seemingly entertained watching her pick up everything, calmly. Through her blurred vision, she could see people pointing at her, marking her with indecent names. From under her eyelid,then she saw a man quietly bending down to reach for a green apple. The woman smiled and breathed along a sigh of relief as heartily she thanked the grateful soul. A ray of hope seemed to suddenly light her own path of sufferings and torments she went through under the inhumane misgivings of her local fellows.

However, the man aloof threw the apple at her, hitting her hard at the back of her head. Flustered, the woman sat back helplessly, her big dark eyes watering as she finally started to sob uncontrollably. Shuffling, she stood up, left everything where it was and trudged back home, perceiving her bitter grief once again. Feeling loneliness and resentment towards the prejudiced world. Sensing, once again, the recognizable weight of rejection.

Thanks and talk to you later xxx