Night Flower story

Prison time

Twenty years in prison bars for a girl in her twenties and a woman in her forty This is my judgment I will live the rest of my life to tell my story.....

The first prisoner (and signs of fatigue and stress are visible on her face) sister, sister, can you do me a favor

The second prisoner (Cruelty, strictness, these are her characteristics, she is the leader of thorns) What do you want She smiled: The phone again I can't.

The first prisoner (begging her as if she were an angel) Please I feel my daughter calling me I want to talk to her I want to hear her voice I will run out of everything you ask But I only need five minutes to call her Please have mercy on my graying head and my bones I beg you...

The second prisoner (intelligence shines in the middle of her lips to make her desire go away) You will talk to her. Come on, take the phone. Come on.

As she was going to her, she heard a voice from the farthest corner of the cell, and signs of astonishment were evident on her face and on everyone in the cabin;

Yes, I uttered my first words. They finally heard my voice. A month has passed since I entered the house of happiness. I do not speak to them. I hear a voice inside me asking me to survive, the voice of a twelve-year-old girl asking for her mother's longing for warmth. Scattered arms embody nothing but an unbridled desire in their bodies. The twelfth child is asking for help. There, I feel very cold, fear, dogs shriek, thirsty hands ask for more, I scream and then call out, I am afraid and bid farewell to my life on a scream that made me lose my honor.

First prisoner: Wake up, what happened to you, did you see a terrifying nightmare?

Beautiful (I look at the ceiling motionless, it's a tear of longing falling from my eyes, there is no sound but the sound of my breath prevails in the place)

The second prisoner (worried or even afraid and trying to deny) What is wrong with you? You don't want the phone. Come on, your daughter's cheeks need you. Don't you want her?

No, no, no, it's me. The voice of greed and greed awakens me, not for money or influence, but for the body of an innocent child trying to get up again. She can't, because the weight of time has destroyed her mind, a pure love for a girl of forty.

I look at them with all my strength and say: Do you see what is the price of the call? Yes, a body and soul, or an empty space to fulfill the desires of a demon?

The first prisoner (and she denies her words and mocks her) How, what do you think you are a body, a soul, then it is true what we heard that you are obsessed with fear and autism.

The second prisoner (and she is enjoying victory) She is sick and does not understand anything Your beloved Qamar wants you. Do you not need her Come hear her voice while she plays with the children, the sound of her breathing and she misses you Don't you want that...

And I throw my hand in one direction and say, a battered child, afraid of the rain, sheltering in lilies, she feels super happy, and when she found a house that sheltered her from the cold in his arms, she fell asleep to wake up and found herself inside the grave of the grave of life carrying in her guts chewed from fatigue to grow, but who is responsible for it is the disease!

I stand and with all fear I walk in the direction of a mother whose mind is broken she wants the nostalgia of her daughter and I speak: daughter of passion, is this what you want, here and there for a place for good, a glimmer of hope that does not exist in our lives

It is a chronic disease called doom.

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Do you hear that it is the sound of death surrounding us, it is the storm, pay attention, but the forty-year-old girl does not hide, for she is in a dark basement between hands claiming safety to quench the thirst of days in the play of life