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Author: Eeman Adeel

Stone Cold (Part 3)

… Wednesday, 3rd February. The funeral was scheduled. All robed in black, a small-scale peaceful burial took place. Inquisitive and curious questions flowed into one ear and escaped from the other as Jules stared from a fair distance into the open, watching the wooden encasings lower down six feet below her dusty boots. How do you even try to comprehend the situation and make sense of it when everything you have to live for is no longer breathing? And from that day onwards, Julie turned into a heartless entity. Fearing no consequence for the worst of the worst already happened, dreading no risk taken for the greatest guilt had embedded itself into her. She let go of her cocoon and transformed into a ferocious butterfly. No longer empathetic, no longer a stranger’s shoulder to cry on as her own only two consolers left her alone. She retained this attitude through university. Not showing a single sign of any emotion hidden deep within. With walls high up and a guard of harsh words, Jules managed to complete her Bachelors and finally apply for the job her father always wanted for her – any respectable position at the counselling firm he visited monthly for his anger management issues. The CV might have been impressive, as she was a literary student, but her hopes were below her knees considering the struggling journey...

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Stone Cold (Part 2)

… Room 325. Bingo. She entered silently, as to not disturb her entire world that was encased behind foreign walls. Looking at her parents’ state didn’t upset her, it made her angry. A form of anger that doesn’t make you shout, it makes you punch walls and cry like a new born baby. Composed; tears welled up in her eyes, flowing like a broken reservoir, silent tears of infuriation. Why must she have fought over a trivial party with her beloved father the previous night? Why did she turn down her mom’s request to assist her in grocery shopping, every single time? Why? Still sobbing soundlessly, Jules kissed her dads scratched forehead, a flinch was the only reciprocation she got. “I won’t go to the party dad”, she whispered. Another kiss on the mother’s purple bruised cheek, with her apron with flour patches and dried out cake batter still on underneath the patients’ gown. “I’ll bring the butter next time, you just sit and relax, okay?” Walking out upon the nurse’s request, she plopped on the floor, dismissing the steal bench across her desperately trying not to yell her lungs out. Proceeding a glass of water to ease her down, the nurse advanced to inform the daughter about the parents’ critical condition. No. No no no no.. no. Dad: brain damage. Mom: a heartbeat away from a straight line...

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Stone Cold (Part 1)

A salty droplet hit her lip, a tear. How could it be? She doesn’t cry, she can’t. Not since two years ago when she broke. Broke into a million pieces, every bone, every atom. She got up from the 3-feet high stool in the kitchen, and advanced to the lounge. But what broke her? What shattered her? What changed the tender-hearted 21 year old into a stone-cold juggler of others’ emotions? “Jules! Honey the van’s here! The sandwich is on the table, don’t forget it.” Julie’s father tried to reconcile after last night’s pointless argument involving permission to a...

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