Perfume

It’s all began with a bottle, a bottle? A bottle of perfume; a rejected bottle of perfume, the bottle she made fun of. The bottle that was for the lady called weirdo. That few seconds’ amusement turned into a life-time venom. The bottle whose fragrance, she wasted in air, turned into black demons environs her wherever she walked. The bottle she gave to someone she called friend for about a month to keep herself away from it but that someone who was already a conspired partner of bottle owner, insisted her to take it back, the lady finally took the bottle to home and locked it in her drawer unused. The bottle fervently forced her to use its fragrance on her, doing it turned into a curse that suddenly blinded her and made her forget every person. Friend or foe, all were complaining that the bottle isn’t good for her, the fragrance will plague her one day and may bury her alive but sigh, the power of curse is much more than any words just like the power of satanic spirits which are much powerful and striking than any other power. She was misplaced in the fragrance as if she was vehemently and sensitively hypnotized with the bottle so much that she made herself a puppet of that. Neither sleeping nor awake she was blindly following the bottle without thinking about whatever were happening in her life till it actually threw her in a muck to get buried alive and the smell of that dirt was so strong that it cuts off the curse of bottle and she found herself inside an excrement. A true man or the only real man left in her life helped her to come out and clean her, but it was late, nothing left in her hand she didn’t even lost her individuality but, good and healthy relations over a single bottle. A bottle made her realized every enthralling thing eventually takes you directly to manure whose smell didn’t even allows you to breathe properly and make you forget all other essences.