Hey! It's been such a long time! Tell me something about your life. What's going on? Feel free to rant here (please ensure to keep this a safe space for everyone) <3

-------

Humans are strange.

As I slowly made my way back home, my legs shaking like they would give up on me anytime soon, I couldn't help but shiver once. It wasn't because of the cold air though. It was because of what I had just read.

The words she used were so sharp, so lethal as if her thoughts were already poisoning her slowly. As if she was dying a death daily but we got to see it happen just once; on the day she lost her battle and jumped from the school's terrace.

Slowly, I came to the conclusion that somehow, the people we meet daily are like the tip of an iceberg. You think you see them, you think you know them too. But nobody can ever estimate the depth of their souls, no one can find out what lurks in the darkness, hidden from plain sight.

It is so scary that one day, you can think of someone as a very happy, cheerful person. And the very next day, your world of illusions could crumble with one small act. Just like mine did with Lyra's fall.

The day — before reality turned into my worst nightmare — we were happily dancing in Connor's party, singing along to the tunes we had long forgotten. It was surprising nevertheless, to be invited by Connor on his birthday but we had a pact since childhood. That whenever any of us would turn 18, no matter where in the world we would be, we'd celebrate it together. I was yet to anticipate mine but he kept his word.

And that's when I realised — sometimes, you're not as lonely as you think you are. One look around and you'll find someone who cares for you. But there's this thing about intrusive thoughts. Just like a duster on a chalkboard, it wipes clean your slate of logic and reasoning. Until you're left to battle with your darkest thoughts with just emotions — all by yourself. Because you've already pushed everyone else away by the time you find yourself seeking comfort from outside.

I wish Lyra could have taken the blindfold of pessimism off and looked around once before ending her life. Just one look and she would find me standing there — ready to offer her all the love that existed in this world. Just one glimpse and she would know I was right there, all along, waiting for her to catch up. Just one chance and she would never be lonely or sad again. I would make sure of it.

The cold touch of the marble floor against my feet reminded me I had reached home already. Zoning out during the walk, I kept thinking, trying to get into Lyra's shoes and see life from her perspective. And what followed scared me — not because of the anguish and plethora of emotions that threatened to weigh me down. But because I realised I knew them, all too well. And maybe, just maybe, I was fighting a battle too, without ever acknowledging it.

Because along with perks, there are drawbacks of being a human, too. You know what you're doing, but sometimes, it is not easy to figure out why.

Life had taken a lot away from me — my mother, my best friend, my will to live. But I found myself here, still. Living, breathing, existing. As if some force was holding me together, as if someone wanted me to stay. Now all I had to do was wait to find out my why.

My lips were cracked due to the cold wind and they stung slightly when I gulped down a few sips of hot water. My limbs felt lifeless as my heart constantly pumped the pain through my nerves. Agony surged through my veins, making each moment pass with more discomfort than the previous one.

Maybe humans are like hotspots or amplifiers. They attract any mood that comes in their range and start reciprocating it. Sometimes, with more intensity than the source. Just like all it took me to get into this melancholic headspace was a crumpled page - merely a few words.

I looked around the house to make sure dad wasn't home yet. The silence that greeted me on my arrival was enough to answer. He was never home anyway, though today, his absence was more of a relief than longing.

Bending on one knee, I pulled the drawer of the bedside table and took out a first aid kit. As if my body was nothing but a mass of involuntary muscles anymore, controlled by some unknown force, I found my fingers moving gracefully as they pulled out some cotton from the bunch. I washed my scratched knee with a disinfectant but the pain didn't make me flinch at all.

What I witnessed today played in my mind like a broken record, on loop. Because just after I finished reading the page thrown in the trash, I heard a sound that would haunt me, probably forever. As Lyra tossed and turned in her bed, I saw the way the tear that left her eye glistened under the yellow night light.

I knew why it was so painful to see Lyra cry in her sleep, scream and fall off the bed later. I realised why it was so difficult to hide there and watch helplessly as she tried to get up and pick the pieces of her broken self again. I understood why my heart clenched, tightening inside my chest when I read about how her mind was brewing thoughts of suicide. And none of it was just because I loved her.

It was because — just for a fraction of a second — I could see myself in her. Struggling, surviving yet smiling the next day so no one could notice the pain.

A tear betrayed my restraint and fell down on the scribbled lines of the notebook, smudging the ink on the paper. Not that Lyra was going to notice that anyway. But what shook me to the very core, tugged at my heartstrings and shattered my heart into a million pieces was when I saw what Lyra must have done. Though I couldn't see her notebook, I could see the dented imprint on the page thrown into the bin. It was enough to understand what she had done.

The exact space where I had written Lyra's name was scribbled over. Over and over again with a bold strike-through. As if witnessing her name made her sick in the stomach. As if the life she lived was nothing but a mistake she wanted to forget. As if she was trying to wipe away and cancel out her very existence.

The mere thought of a lifeless Lyra — picturing Lyra and blood together — moved something in me. All of a sudden, I was more alert, as if my brain was racing with the newfound knowledge. Looking down, I noticed blood trickle from the torn skin on my knee and felt the pain course through me; physical as well as mental. But the pain I was feeling wasn't mine. The way I fell flat on my knee while trying to climb down from the pipe wasn't what caused me this anguish.

It was love — eternal, unjust and unconditional.

The notion of being unloved, unwanted, undeserving. These are indeed very strong feelings; probably even stronger than being loved. Undoubtedly, it is what makes you want to give up on everything positive and take a turn to change your life. Rather, take a turn to end your life.

It was scary just how much I related to everything this girl was going through.

A small hiss escaped my lips as I tied the bandage around my knee, way too tight to stop the blood. Minutes later, I found myself curled up with my head on my knee — just like Lyra — and the tears soaked through my jeans, blocking my vision to unsee every rational thought that came my way.

Maybe that was why Lyra was all wrapped up about suicide. As if her thoughts were a barrier, blocking the route to all happy things in her life. Maybe she treated them as her tree in scorching heat, curtains when the sun was harsh and her palms covering her eyes when the bright gleam of the sun made her eyelids ache.

Somehow, unaware that the light, all the while, was what she looked for in life. It was meant to be all the happy moments, all the love that she craved for — which she, unknowingly, through her own actions, blocked from entering her life.

All she needed to do now was take the blindfold off and see the daylight.

Switching off the lights, I shut my eyes tightly like she had a while back and begged for sleep to come find me. To my ill-fate, all that greeted me were haunting images. All I could picture was a dead Lyra, trapped inside a coffin, screaming to be saved but no one else could hear her cries. In spite of the number of people standing around her with a candle in their hands to pay their tributes, the only one who heard her pleas to be saved was me.

Just me.

I couldn't point a finger at what scared me more —Lyra crying in her sleep barely a few minutes ago and falling on the floor or the way I fell off the pipe, and the way it made me feel. I was so close to the ground, my knee aching in pain but all I could do was smile. As if my wait was finally over, as if my prayers were finally about to be answered.

Picking up my phone in haste, I checked the date to make sure my mind wasn't playing tricks on me. It had the same date it showed this morning. As thrilled as I was to end up back in time and change the way our story ended, I was hell scared. Because amidst the adrenaline rush, it took me a while to grasp the fact that this was not going to be an easy ride at all.

Trying to face all of Lyra's pessimism, still hold my own hope intact and somehow illuminate the darkest corners of Lyra's mind to make her feel good about her own life — none of this was going to be normal. Especially because of how stubborn and strongly opinionated Lyra was. Especially because of just how easily she loved and lost herself when she lost someone she loved.

It was in moments of introspection like these that I realised — nights were never going to be easy for me. Because it would never be any less daunting for me to sleep in the dark again. Especially after the horrifying revelation that chose to attack me today. That there was just one reason behind all of this. A wild emotion, a shocking realisation had made its way through my veins, stronger than ever. Faster than the speed of the blood that ran to all my organs to keep me alive.

It was meant to be me.

There was logic behind no one else being able to notice Lyra scream from her coffin. There was a reason I had to be the one who saw her jump to death that day. There was a horrifying truth behind my connection to all of this.

And it wasn't love.

I wished it was just that. I hoped love was all it was. But it all made sense now.

The way the sun had made my wish come true and given me a ray of hope, a motive to hold on when I had lost the last ounce of faith. There was a reason I understood all of Lyra's pain when no one else did.

Maybe, just maybe it was because we weren't as different as I thought we were. Because we were floating in the same boat all along. Because we were fighting the same battles deep down. Because we both had the same blindfold on.

And I could feel this piece of cloth blind Lyra's headspace that she, herself, couldn't because I had one wrapped around my eyes too. And if I wanted her to let it go and see the daylight again, I had to learn how to do it myself first. If I wanted to save her, if I needed her back, I had to save myself first. But I had no clue how I was supposed to do that.

Scared of drowning into my own darkness, I quickly got up and turned on all the lights. Smiling with teary eyes, I wrapped the blanket around me and soon found myself drifting off into peaceful sleep. Because though I didn't know how to change the ending, I knew what the first step was.

All I had to do was accept that I was blindfolded as well, and only when I could see the daylight, I could hope to show it to Lyra too.

* * *

Random Question: What is one fun fact that left you shocked?

* * *

Author's Note - Hello! Tell me what you think of this chapter. To be honest, it was so difficult to write this chapter because I was supposed to make it make sense but not too much sense since I wanted to subtly show the way Diego's head is all clouded and confused too.

Let me know what you think. Leave tons of inline comments, I love them :P

Thank you so much for being here <3

Don't forget to Read, Vote, Comment, Share and Follow!