Fiction

The Circle Of Life

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“What is wrong with her?”

 

“Is she hungry?”

 

“She might be in a bad dream.”

 

 

 

Everyone kept guessing as to why the baby was crying so much.

 

 

 

 

 

“Where am I?”

 

I was just being buried in my coffin, and suddenly I am here. My tiny hands not able to reach my own face. All these unknown people are staring at me with clear confusion on the face, while I am the one confused here.

 

I want to speak, I want to ask them who they are, why am I here and in this form?

 

 

 

I hazily remember that I was lying on the floor, unconscious – dead, they had declared.

 

My family and friends had gathered, mourning my departure.

 

 

 

And now I am here – trying to feel my own disrupted emotions and not being able to convey it.

 

 

 

I never really gave it a thought, but being a new-born baby is not as great as it seems. I know that I will forget everything in just a matter of time and live my new life. But for now, the confusion remains.

 

 

 

They said I was dead, but am I?

 

I don’t feel so. 

I felt like
The devil's debt

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