She believed that she was not a cripple, at least physically. But she had a lurking suspicion that blood did not flow in her veins, at least not at this stage of life.
She had tried to kill herself. She had brutally cut the vein of her left arm. Not a drop of blood came out. She was horrified. She cut the vein a second time; and it was quite a deep cut. But to her dismay and shock nothing came out except the hurt and humiliation that she had suffered all these years.
When he saw her lying prostrate on the bed, one arm hanging lifelessly, he had laughed, almost like a hyena; he laughed as if it was a charade.
“Now you know for yourself, don’t you; you are a good for nothing person.”
She kept looking; not at him, but at the abuses, the accusations and the insults gushing out of the vein of her lifeless arm.
A post for Three Word WednesdayWord prompts- Cripple, blood, lurk