Hide and Seek

By Avanthika Girish

Nothing would ever be the same again. How could it? I was dragged to the asylum, leaving

my baby all alone. 

My baby was five years old and had soft, brown hair that complemented his deep, grey eyes

and bright smile. He loved playing hide and seek but never won because he couldn’t keep in

his giggles. Always happy and excited. Too mature for his age. We loved each other

ardently. Then why are these people telling me that I didn’t have a child? What happened to

my son? He would now be at home, hiding. 

“It’s my turn to seek. Don't leave him alone,” I pleaded to the doctors repeatedly. 

It has been a week, locked in a room with nothing but a crib, asked to recall my past. Barely

did anything come to mind but the first few days after my son’s birth. It seems an eon ago.

Then it all came in a flash one night. “It was dark. I…I walked over to my baby’s crib with a

pillow and…and…put it over his face.” The next thing I remembered was his funeral. I broke

down. Hands trembling, I looked at the doctors hoping it was nothing but a nightmare.

“No. No! I couldn’t have done that. My son’s still alive. He’s at home, hiding. I..didn't do that.

I couldn't have,” I screamed, crying inconsolably. 

Postpartum depression- I was diagnosed with it five years ago. “Medicated and cured,” they

said but could a mother who killed her child ever be okay? 

My son never once left my side. We were always together but now….

Nothing’s ever going to be the same again. I’ll just pretend that this is another game of hide

and seek.

By Avanthika Girish