A Mother After All

A mother's love is like no other . Everyone knows that. But no one knows it better than I do.Here's why:

The Tomb of Leeza is a beautiful place, with a bloodied past. A mother is said to have been buried alive by the King, who then took her son away and gave it to his queen, who was without a child. It is said that the king had the mother's thumbs chopped off and and then had her locked in a small room. Without her thumbs, the mother could never escape. Later, the king built this gigantic tomb around that little chamber, as a remembrance of the mother's 'sacrifice'.
Me and some pals took a trip to the place once.It was beautiful and scenic to a point that you felt as if it was hiding something. The blue sky, the lush green grass, and of course, the huge red soil colored tomb. We explored  the chambers in the tomb and stumbled upon the center room. And it was eerie. Dark, dingy and signs of struggle all over. The place reeked of fear and horror. One felt bad for the poor woman, who had her child taken away and was then buried alive.
Our group decided to take off as the place was creepy to death. One by one we made our way out, but just as I was about to get out (I was the last one.), the stick keeping the door open gave away and the heavy brick door slammed shut.
I shuddered with fear. I was in the tomb, alone. My friends tried hard but could not move the door an inch. They said it would take time to bring help, but I knew that no help would come till tomorrow. I braced myself for a night alone.
Time went by. More than anything, the grim environs was what scared me the most. I kept myself busy with dirt-drawing and sleeping.
It was then, perhaps well past midnight, that I heard a faint cry. I curled up in the deepest corner of the room and kept still. The cries grew louder and louder till a point where I felt scared, but also sorry. I was so moved that I began to cry, not out of fear, but out of pity. The cries subsided to soft sobs. I wished I could console her. I cried myself to sleep.Sun rays woke me up the next morning.I was in the company my friends, who were staring down at me earnestly The local police had helped them to open the door. The horror on their faces was palpable. Something was off. I told them the whole story, but to my surprise, no one made fun of me.
Back home,when I looked at a mirror, I realized why my friends were so grim. My cheeks had blood streaks over them and my hair was frizzy. No,it was't mine. It was as if someone who had bloody hands, had wiped my tears and patted my head.