Sunday, January 20, 2008

Chromosome XX

Dear world,
It’s dark here. I can’t hear much. Just a dull vibe of the ultrasound, maybe. Te fluids about me dance as the machine gages my form. This moment is dense. I ca feel her heartbeat, now, louder than ever. I can feel her pain, now, more than ever. I wish I had a voice to scream. I wish they had ears to hear. I wish all of us could feel.
But it doesn’t matter what I feel. To the world, I am yet, unborn. I am yet, not “alive”. I am just flesh and blood and bones, with life…and with a gender. After today, after the machine speaks its truth, I may never see the world. I might be severed from her and from the nourishment I need. I might be severed from the protection of her body. I might “die”. But as no one yet considers me alive, no one will mourn my death.
Even if I am brought out into the world, for fear of law, society or just someone’s conscience, my fate will not be much different. I will be deprived of food for satisfying a brother’s appetite. I will be deprived of an education to further suppress my being. I will be dominated over and my own defences will be shattered as others invade me. My body, my soul. My voice will be muffled so that a calcified voice can be heard. My strength will be termed a weakness and my wishes left unfulfilled. I will be made to work, without ever being acknowledged. I will be made to cry, without being heard. I will be sold, without receiving a price. I will be ostracized, if I ever dare to live my own life.
I will try and fail to show the world, that “he” is but a part of “her”. He cannot exist without her.
And now, it is growing darker. I feel strangled. I feel suffocated. I see my small world, in a bag, drain away before me. I know this is too soon. I know I can’t survive in this world so soon. I am not ready yet. But no one care. In fact, this is exactly what they wish. They wish to kill me. They wish to have only a son.
It’s coming to an end now, and before me, I see the future. A future, in a world without me. Where only sons exist. Where they cannot find me to torture, to invade. So they are driven to but each other. To vent their frustrations, which they were so used to inflicting on me. There are only the last few of us remaining, and they live a life which doesn’t fit into the definition of the word. Mere objects, being passed on from one son to another. They choose to end their life. And now it’s only him. Only he reigns supreme in the world…alone.
And now there is a stagnating human world. They slowly die out. Without me, they are unable to have a ‘son’. And the world comes to an end because there isn’t any daughter.
As the darkness grows deep, as I suffocate more, I wish to die this death than to live in the man’s world. I choose to leave before I could enter. Because if they cannot give me a life, they do not deserve me.
I refuse to live in this “Man’s world”.
- Chromosome XX

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