Pain

The world swirled before my eyes in a confusing mix of streaks and colors. I grasped the staircase railing to steady myself. My head was throbbing, bringing with it more pain with each beat of my heart. Pain was impairing my vision. The world was becoming a blur in the haze of my pain. Oh God, please let it be over, I whimpered. The pain was too much. I sat myself down on the steps leading me to my bedroom and put my head in my hands breathing in the sweat and scent of wood that had stuck on them while grasping the staircase railing.

Thank goodness I was at home when this awful headache started. Slowly inhaling and exhaling, I massaged my temples in a circular motion. A few minutes later I crawled to my room to grab my hair brush. I ran the brush through my hair and pushed them purposefully on my scalp. That feels so good. I could even feel the blood circulating through my whole scalp, beating in synchronization as my heart. After a few minutes of brushing, the pain slowly subsided and I felt myself drifting off to sleep. I climbed into bed, heavy headed and exhausted from dealing with the pain and fell asleep once my aching head touched the pillow.

Once again darkness engulfed me. And once again my breathing was restricted. The only difference was that, this time I had prepared myself for this situation. I was less panicked and ignored the silence while allowing my other senses to explore the surroundings. I strained my eyes, trying my hardest to detect even the slightest movement. After a few minutes of pitch black darkness, I was about to give up when I saw a very, tiny, miniscule movement. So slight was the movement that I was not even sure whether or not it really happened. But what came next assured me that it did. The shadow that had moved began to shape itself into a human silhouette against my eyes. Moving softly, without the sound of footfalls and fluidly, it came towards me. Instinct told me to run. Every cell of my brain urged every part of me to run, or hide or get away but my legs would not move. My pulse raced and my heart pounded so loudly that it became the only sound ringing in my ears. But I would not budge.

The shadow figure stopped inches away from me. Extending its arm and bending its finger twice, it motioned for me to follow it.

Despite my paralyzing fear of it, I found myself following it. It led me forward and right and left and back. It felt like we were walking in circles. Then it stopped, and blended right back into the shadows. Where are you??? My mind screamed. Then suddenly I saw it. A tiny white dot in the middle of the darkness I was standing in. The dot appeared to be expanding until a ray of light fell onto the area revealing two oak doors in front of me.

Mystified, I stared at the doors looking for any sign on either of them. They were the most beautiful doors I’ve ever seen in my life. I never knew I could appreciate the beauty of something as common as a door but the intricate carvings and engravings of patterns embedded on both of them were fascinating. They both had different patterns on them but each one was unique. The fine details on them were fascinating. It was as if they told a story and that the ending of each story lay behind each different door and all I had to do was to open each of them to find out.

I placed my hand on the door on my right. My body automatically tensed, anticipating the danger that may lie behind the door. But my mind was strangely calm and I found myself slightly pushing the huge door.

There, before my eyes, stood the guy whom I had been thinking about all the time. The very person who managed to carve a smile on my face every time he called. But that was not it; he appeared to be carrying a beautiful baby in his arms. The only thing that was missing was me standing next to him. Almost as if hearing my thoughts, he looked up from the baby’s face and looked at me. A smile broke out on his face and he beckoned me to the apparent blissful life he was having. I tried to go to him but found myself being pushed out of the doorway with the door closing itself in my face. What??

I turned towards the next door. Stroking the intricate and equally fascinating design on it, I pushed the door open gently.
There, I saw my parents. Looking very very happy together and looking at a picture of me and my siblings. Their faces were radiant and they glowed with apparent happiness. My mother looked up at me and smiled. The kind of smile that told me that I had somehow made her proud, I smiled back. Beckoning me to join them, again I felt myself being pushed out the door before I could even respond to her.

I wanted both. Badly. But something told me that at some point, I would have to choose. And the thought of that made my stomach clench with fear.
Please, I pleaded. Don’t make me do this, I thought brokenly. The silence that greeted me all but reassured me. The doors faded into the shadows and I began sobbing. So hysterical was I that I started to wail and scream into the darkness. A particularly high pitched scream tore from my throat and I awoke with a start.

sorry

writer's block.dammit.i will update very soon.(if anyone bother's to read that is)

Dark Chocolate

The dream had repeated itself. It was becoming more and more frequent. There was something different about this dream. It stayed in my mind as if someone had engraved the story line into the subconscious part of my brain. I could tell this was not going to be the last time the dream continued. It was like someone, or rather, my brain was trying to tell me something. A warning of some kind to give me a heads up on the disaster that was about to happen. This was not the type of dream you rolled over and forget. This was real.

Sighing, I looked out of my bedroom window, the sun was just about to disappear leaving the sky looking blue with tints of orange from the remaining rays of the sun. Closing my eyes, I searched through every file in my mind that I had. Turning every nook and cranny searching for the meaning. For some reason, I found the dream hard to ignore. The instinct for self- preservation was strong in a human being, that’s why maybe my mind was already warning me. I could never ignore such a sign. After a few minutes of trying, I gave up and started to get ready to go out.
I was meeting that guy again. A smile played on my lips as I remembered the first time we had met. I was drawn to him automatically. The feeling seemed so natural and involuntary that it was unnerving. It was as if I had mentally prepared myself for the attraction. Truth is, I did not even know the guy existed until he was sitting in front of me. Pulling over a dark brown blouse over my head and spritzing perfume all over my body, the color of his eyes returned to my mind. Dark chocolate, oh how comforting.

Looking in the mirror one last time, I noticed that I was wearing the color that was most similar to his eyes. Oh darn, I’m starting to like this color. God help me.

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A long sharp gust of air exhaled through his dry lips. Waiting was a torture. She had not given an outright conformation that she was going to come and he had spent the last two hours deciding whether or not to show up. He had nothing to lose, he decided, worst case scenario; she would not even turn up and never know that he did come. That way, his ego still remained intact.
There was something about her that drew him out. It was as if she had full access to his mind and thought. The way she had looked into his eyes, probing, searching, made him wonder what she had seen when she suddenly broke their eye contact and looked away, her face impassive.
The sound of soft footsteps treading lightly on the pavement broke him out of his reverie. Turning, he was greeted by the very person he had been thinking of. “Sorry I’m late. I got caught up in traffic.” She mumbled apologetically. Eyes, sincere and sorry, she looked at him with a hint of amusement. “Something wrong with my face?” she asked, her question seemed foolish; no. of course not. You have the prettiest face I’ve ever seen. How could it even be remotely wrong? He thought. Nevertheless, it snapped him out of his unconscious gazing at her face. “Oh sorry. I just- I mean- oh thanks for coming.” Oh crap. What now? Stammering? What was he doing to him?
“Shall we go inside?” he asked. She nodded her head and gave him a quick small smile. His choice of destination for a first date was interesting, surprising even. He knew that. He had wanted to see what reaction he would get. He had racked his brain for places to go to till he found the perfect answer. “So you want to tell me why you chose the library?” she whispered, when they entered the massive room filled with books of every topic one might want to seek. “You do know we would not be able to talk freely.” She had continued. “I wanted something different. And, Lisa said you absolutely adored books.” He answered softly.
Lisa. She had been his savior. Telling him about her love for the pages of far away stories had been the crucial fact he had chosen the library. Smiling at the thought of their mutual friend, he muttered a silent God bless you Lisa. I owe you one.
He led her to one of the tables that were reserved especially for people using the library’s references. Always the gentleman, he pulled out a chair for her and sat only after she touched her rear to the chair surface. Wait. Why am I looking at her rear again? Oh God.
He pulled out a pen and a notebook from his pocket. It was the cheap, blue, small notebook that was a little bit bent from being stuffed in his pocket for too long. She looked at him questioningly as he began to scribble. Pushing the notebook towards her with a mischievous twinkle in his dark chocolate eyes, he handed her the pen. Watching her intently as she bent her head down to read what he had scribbled, he felt his pulse slow down in relief as she grinned and started to scribble back.

Results

The day was sweltering hot and I was curled up in a ball on my bed. The sun beat down hard from the sky and even inside the cool shade of my house, the heat managed to penetrate the walls creating the sticky, humid and uncomfortable atmosphere that I was experiencing. I had been a sad wreck all day, moping around the house with dread in the pit of my stomach, anticipating my final year exam results. I had downed a whole bottle of green tea and eaten two whole bars of kinder bueno to somewhat cheer me up.
It had worked for the few minutes I was eating the chocolate. But now, I felt worse. Not only was I stressing out over my results, I felt fat too after that little snack. Ugh. Results day always sucks man.
My phone beeped. I froze. Oh no. Is this it? I reached cautiously for my phone fearing it might suddenly blow up or turn into an electronic piranha and bite my fingers off. Paranoid, I know but I couldn’t help it. I looked at the phone number and automatically my pulse raced and all I could hear was the pounding of my heart in my ears. I gripped my phone tighter instantly regretting signing up for the results via sms service; I could easily drop my phone after seeing my results.
Module after module I checked, C+, C, B, B+, B+, A+
I stared. Open- mouthed, I gaped at my results as the truth sank in. Oh my God! I passed all! I passed all my modules! I’m graduating this year! I am finally done with exams! I threw up my hands and shrieked in absolute, pure joy and whooped all the way to the phone to deliver the good news to my father.
The phone rang just as I touched the keypad to dial my father’s number. My mother’s name popped up on the caller identification and I frowned. Mother’s intuition I guess; how else could she know my results were in? Laughing, I answered the phone literally bounding with joy at the thought of telling my parents the good news and making them proud of me.

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It was dark. I could not see a single tiny thing. The darkness was my only companion. Blinding me and taking away my sight, it engulfed me. I tried to calm myself down and inhaled slowly. The air was thick and strained. It was making it hard for me to breathe. Like my lungs were being compressed and my nose was pinched. I breathed through my mouth and even that was difficult. But I still could breathe. I felt like my every breath was numbered. Like whoever was going to take my air away was coming fast and I was clutching on to what little chance of breathing I had before it all ended. And when it ended, what was going to happen? Would I die? Wither away as my last breath was escaped through my dry lips? I had no idea what would happen but for some reason, I was not scared.
There was something that was bothering me though. The silence. The silence was so deafening it scared me. I covered my ears to keep it out but all I got was more silence. It was not empty silence. There was something sinister about it. Like the silence of a lion when it was hunting an unknowing prey. The silence that you got when you felt like there was presence in the room but you could not prove it. The silence that betrayed full emotions but no words. I could not stand it. I wanted to scream. I wanted to hear my scream tear apart the heavy cloud of silence that surrounded me. I wanted someone to assure me nothing was wrong. A sign, a clue, anything. But those never appeared. I opened my mouth to scream but before I could, something smothered my mouth and knocked me over. Kicking and struggling, I woke up in cold sweat to find myself entangled in my blanket and heavily breathing.

like a hard candy with a surprise centre

My heart fluttered as I laid my eyes reluctantly at the annoying stranger sitting opposite me. His features were not that of a strikingly handsome young man but more of a subtle, mature and wise kind of look. He had a mocha colored complexion with a sharp bridged nose that extended to slightly flared nostrils. His dark, proportionate lips were pulled back over his pearly white teeth in a teasing smile which had been there the moment he started talking to me. His hair was matted, messy and just the way I liked it, natural, without that disgusting hair wax that I hated so much. I hated the way it made the hair look. Wax on hair was just a big turn-off. But the only feature I was drawn to immediately was his eyes. Dark brown, they reminded me of dark chocolate. His eyes had kindness reflected in them, understanding and teasing, nearly melting my composure when his gaze bored into my own. Transfixed, I had stared right back, probing, searching for I felt that his eyes held so many secrets of his heart. There was humor that day but there was also a hint of hurt in them for reasons unknown to me.
I ripped my gaze away from his. I had known him for just 30 minutes and I seemed to gravitate towards his opinions. He was intriguing. He provoked me and drew me out. He had made me want to argue and join in the casual argument I had been pointedly ignoring. The first few minutes at which we had been introduced, I was determined to ignore him throughout the whole session for he had brought up the Men vs Women topic. Feminist at heart, I had been mildly insulted at his opinions not failing to notice the teasing in them. But to no avail. I held my tongue when he provoked, but could no longer hold back my retorts when he started on the driving scene. My tongue was loose again and there, the battle of words had begun. Stunning both of our friends into startled, knowing smiles, we had went full steam ahead with the argument, lost in our own world.

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She was beautiful. The moment he had set his eyes on her, the feeling that he thought he would never be able to feel again stirred like a feeble creature sniffing the air with a renewed hope of finding strength before it collapsed entirely.
Her polite but indifferent smile had sent his heart into a slightly faster rate of beating. Her features were perfect for him. Sharp nose and rosy cheeks, her lips were set in a way that made him think of her as a woman of decision. Decisive yet gentle. Hey eyes were provoking. They had had eye contact and he was unable to tear his gaze away. He had gazed, transfixed as she had been, lost in her probing, searching and questioning eyes. Never before had he been captured in anyone’s gaze except for only one other woman. His mother.
She had not seem too keen to be acquainted with him that day despite the fact that they had gazed into each other’s eyes for more than a minute. He purposely picked a topic that would pique her interest. And like so many other women, she took the bait and joined in the debate with witty comments and intellectual opinions. Watching her control her flow of words before she let loose had been entertaining. Her cheeks were flushed and she bit her lower lip as if to physically restrain the flow of words that was threatening to spill. Truth be told, he adored her.

sorry seems to be the hardest word

The world passed me by in a whirl of confusing colors and sounds. At that moment everything else had ceased to have meaning except for the slip of paper in my hand. I raked my eyes over it again and again hoping that this was some kind of sick nightmare that I was going to wake up from at any moment. The inevitable truth started to sink in and my legs forgot their purpose. My knees wobbled and I immediately collapsed into the nearest chair.
“This cannot be happening. I worked so hard. I worked my ass off for these. NO! I did NOT fail!” my mind screamed. “The results must be wrong. Something must have gone wrong that’s why they got the wrong values”
The truth was being a bitch. It hit me solid hard in the face and sent me reeling all over the fact. It curled into the pit of my stomach and twisted knots with my intestines. It gave birth to the many butterflies that were fluttering like crazy in my tummy. Seriously, the truth was a bitch. I closed my eyes for a brief second with the intention of escaping reality for a few seconds when I forced them back open again in response to my father’s tap on the shoulder.
“How?” was all he asked. I wordlessly handed him the slip of paper praying he did not have a cardiac arrest and pass out in the school hall. He took in my pale face and terrified expression as a sign of what he was going to see. His eyes roved over the printings that were stubbornly there, his face expressionless. It seemed like eternity was over until he finally looked up to face me. “Well, it’s not bad. You did good for all your other modules except math. Never mind, let’s just focus on the re-test okay? ” the words came out strange, strangled even, like he was forcing them out and biting his tongue to say more. Our eyes met and I probed his dark black eyes searching for some clue to what he was really feeling inside. I saw disappointment reflected in them but also a glimmer of hope. Try as he might to keep the disappointment out of my reach, he could not do so.
His reaction killed me. I wanted to break down and cry. I wanted to drop to my knees and beg him for forgiveness. I wanted to do anything that could take the hurt out of his eyes. I wanted to say a flow of words to tell him that I did not do it intentionally but I held my tongue. A tearful sob threatened to burst through my trembling lips and I mashed them into a hard straight line. I wanted to say something. I wanted to respond. But I knew that if I betray even the slightest bit of emotion, all my restraint would break loose and I would start bawling my eyes out right where I was standing.
All along my heart was pounding a furious mantra of broken incoherent sentences mostly revolving around “I am so sorry Daddy. So so sorry for being so stupid.”

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Biting her lip, she winced slightly as she remembered that scene that had occurred a few years back. “Never, I will never ever repeat that again. I will never make that expression cloud his clear, kind eyes anymore.”
Yawning slightly, I reached for my phone to check the time. I was already so exhausted from the day’s activities and my eyelids felt like they weighed a ton. I had to stay up, it was half an hour more to Hanna’s birthday and I was determined to be the first one who wished her, as her birthday celebration itself would have to be belated. That was the least I could do.
Waiting around for twelve am was no joke, especially if the day had had no room for an afternoon nap. I closed my eyes briefly keeping my posture straight up to prevent me from sinking into the blissful folds of deep sleep and colorful dreams. It felt so good, to let my eyelids win for once. I exhaled in a gust of carbon dioxide and let my mind wander while keeping a part of it conscious.
If anyone could take a peek in my mind they would immediately see what my priorities were. It was as if my mind was this super computer with every file on every single detail and aspect of my life. It was usually organized in a high priority to low priority order. My parents were usually the first of the worldly issues of my life. They came right after religion. Keeping them happy had been my mission ever since I could understand the significance of mother’s and father’s days. I used to make such a big fuss out of it. Determined to get them a gift every year was a personal goal of mine. This was all worth it as they would love anything I had gotten them; my parents were the definition of positivity and encouragement. No matter how lame ass the gift would be, they would never fail to love the gift and appreciate my efforts.
I still do get them stuff but I don’t really put much thought about what the gift would be. As I matured over the years, I realized that they were not the types who gushed over materialistic gifts and thoughts. They wanted more from their children. They wanted success for each and every one of us and they constantly prayed for that.
It was then when I realized how much pressure I was in to excel. I had often worked hard and studied hard for my own sake. For the sake of knowledge and exams, but my parents taught me that achieving brilliant results were something every parent wanted for their child. That simple fact changed my whole perspective of life. If I had once been the girl who lived her life for herself, well then I have changed. My parents’ happiness and pride were what I craved for. Not that I did not have any materialistic cravings of my own but to make my parents proud of me has always been my number one goal.
Lady Gaga’s poker face ringtone shook me out of my thoughts. It was a text reminding me that twelve am was just five minutes away. Shrugging off my thoughts, I started to craft a birthday message for Hanna.