The Other Women

I am a lonesome woman. I was pushed away by my family because of my defiance of the rules of Man. Man have owned me for centuries. They made me the slave of their disgusting appetites. They are the architect of the tragedies of my lives. For every 10 lives that I live in submission, I live one in absolute rebelion.

I have visions of a pack of women running in the low lands at dusk, a blade in their hand.

I am a beautiful woman dancing in a tent full of silk and cushions in the desert. I play the strings. I pray with a veil on my head. I have a knife on my right thigh. I hold it in my hand when I sleep. I used it many times. I put it under the jaws of those who are spellbound by my charms and become like rabid animals to be put down.

I see a lady, daughter of a rich and powerful family. She is desperatly in love with her brother. One day, she seduces him. I see her screaming in agony in the middle of the sheets on a bed when she realizes she destroyed everything. There was no one else in her world. Why was she so obsessed with him?

I am a young woman in a bath in the middle of a grand but dark ballroom with candles around me. I did something I am very satisfied with. I am content. I relax, rest my head. But a feeling creeps in slowly. I feel something is wrong. I cannot move anymore. I do not panic, I am shocked. It’s too late now. Behind me, my mother runs through the gallery to reach the bath tub. She pulls me out of the water by my armpits. I am heavy. I cannot help her. When the water receides, I feel I am bleeding out from my uterus. I know I did that to myself. I killed a child I bore and killed myself as well. I die in the arms of my mother.

The witch I am lives alone and hidden in the woods. The animals, the sun, the moon and the stars are my very best friend. I talk to them and they answer back. Every life is precious but for the man’s. They can rot for all I care.

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