The Creature
Noor Mohammad
It was a gorgeous specimen, a beautiful product of society — its long, straight hair swayed with the winds of March, and its white face was covered with freckles which were attempted to be hidden with makeup. It wore a beautiful white shirt and jeans, along with a bracelet, a ring, a pair of earrings, and a necklace. Its lips were painted in majestic lipstick, its eyes adorned with shadows and mascara.
Now all dirty and black and red, the creature was found buried under the ground as it bled to death; at least that’s what the coroner said upon close inspection. The only thing the police could not find was the creature’s name; they did not try to find its parents — too much work. People cheered as the creature was found. They blamed the creature. They feared it. They said it was just punishment for such an ungodly being, and the men who tortured it were heroes. The police assured the media they would bring the bad men to justice, but inside they could already smell the money. Everybody wore a façade of sadness for the creature but inside hid their grins as they believed it had deserved such cruelty; after all, it did not follow the norms of its countrymen.
It would surely have been sad if it could see what the people’s reactions were, but all its eyes were capable of was exuding sadness, loneliness, and a hint of eternal content.
***
A woman dying was nothing new; it was just another part of life. It was hard to accept such harsh reality, but willingly or unwillingly, we were forced to accept it nonetheless. The girl knew this and accepted it. She knew her place in society, where men would kill her or she would eventually kill herself. She knew progressiveness was just another excuse for women to be used, another means of objectifying her. She knew this and accepted it as she sat at her dressing table, fighting furiously to cover up her freckles; she was taught they did not look good on her. She wore lenses as glasses were said to be backdated, and she padded her bosoms as small frames were unworthy of attention, love, or even respect. She worked part-time beside her university as friendships were borne out of money. She knew she was being used by everything around her: her friends, her society, and her family. Even then, she strived to please everyone because if she did not, she would be alone, and loneliness was a suffering she hated most.
She spent countless childhood days sitting beside her mother as she told her stories, and she saw how lonely her mother was. The neighbors would not talk to her because she was always injured and her body was always bleeding. The last memory she has of her mother is from when she was eleven years old. She had come back from school and opened the door to find her mother sprawled on the floor, blood dripping down her face, the walls, and a religious portrait on the wall of a verse from a holy book. She screamed but this only further angered the huge creature holding their lives in its hand. It started to furiously hit her mother even when she could not move. Five days later, the doctors confirmed her death and seven days later, her mother’s family buried her. She came to accept her powerlessness when a creature, a relative of her mother’s, called her and forced itself on her while her mother’s funeral was still going on. She was submissive, and why wouldn’t she be? She did not want to die. Or maybe some part of her wishes to now.
She wanted to experience independence; not the independence that a child has when it learns to walk, nor the independence of going to school for the first time alone without the need of a guardian. She wanted the independence that came with being free; she wanted to live her life and not be judged constantly; she wanted to fly but her wings had been clipped.
Finally, she found someone who accepted her but not her freckles, loved her but not her glasses, wanted her but not the shape of her body. She was in love and so too was the stranger she met through her friend. She was happy; finally, because this stranger was a women’s rights activist in her country and he talked about the sufferings of women, their equal rights, and just treatment. This to her was a freedom she never expected to have, being born a woman. She finished wearing her beautiful gown which she only wore on special occasions and could not help but admire herself. She was happy, having managed to become someone completely new for the sake of another person. She looked at the watch — it was late, but women had the privilege of being late. She smiled to herself. A man that understood women was rare and a man that would understand her was even rarer. She whispered to herself over and over and over that she deserved this; she deserved to be loved for who she was and she wanted to be herself.
With this train of thought, her mind took a quick turn, whether out of rebelliousness or self-satisfaction she did not know, but she thought, Why wear a gown that is so closed and conservative? She wanted to let loose, and she wanted to wear, be, and feel comfortable. So, she immediately undressed and slipped into a beautiful, comfortable white tee and jeans. If he truly loves me, she thought, he will love me in this. He must love me in this.
***
How did this happen? She did not know. Everything was perfect, and the date was everything she hoped it would be. The creature was magnificent, tall, well-built, with a head full of wavy hair. It talked about its past, its hopes for the future, its mother and sister and their positions in this relationship. It was a dream that had been made solely for her. They talked throughout the day.
At around 8pm, as they finished their dream-like-date at a well-known establishment, she prepared to leave. But as soon she got up, she started to feel dizzy and grasped onto the creature for dear life. She asked it to help her home with as much love and warmth and helplessness as she could muster, hoping that the creature would not abandon her. But all she could see was the creature’s nasty grin as he took her away.
***
The world did not stop for the girl, nor did anyone sympathize with the beautiful carcass lying haphazardly six feet under. The she-creatures sometimes talked about what a tragedy it was and how their life was under constant scrutiny by the misogynistic society, but they did not love her nor show any interest. Their solution to everything was to blame society, culture, friends and family, but they refused to take action or even shed a tear for her. The he-creatures did not bat an eye, for they could not understand what happened, why it happened, or what it was they should do. The concept of a woman was foreign to them; they were unwilling to believe that the she-creatures too had feelings and intellect. These he-creatures were the superior of the bunch, and they wanted to dominate their counterparts by subduing them. Inwardly, they were scared of the she-creatures — what if they dominated us?
After all was said and done, nobody cared about the girl. She was dead and so her story had come to an end. The creatures blamed her dress for her abuse; they blamed society, and even the justice system, but everybody refused to blame themselves. By being on the sidelines, they were the audience to a life’s demise, and the more the audience gathered, the better the actors acted. The only one who suffered was an innocent naïve soul who did not know why it was being tortured or why it was suffering all alone. She was just another woman on the news. Another woman whose death would be used in political campaigns, another woman who wanted to be loved. But love is expensive, so no one wants to part with it.
***
As she lay under the ground, she could not breathe; the oxygen was running low. She wanted to curse her abusers, her torturers, her captivators, her kidnappers…her rapists. But she did not. Her brain had stopped working, and all she could do was mumble, Why, why, why?! She felt lonely, and she wanted her mother and her little stories of beautiful, courageous maidens. Her mother used to comb her hair, and take her to all the little shops to buy her dresses on special occasions.
She cried, all alone, as she felt her life ebbing away. She felt that she would not give the world the satisfaction of seeing her beaten down, so she practiced smiling, but it was hard to smile with the ground on top of her. So, she gave up and lay there in silence. She knew there was no use hoping for a better future because somewhere out there, another girl was being buried — another creature that had been tamed.