They had settled into their routines. It was slow and tentative but they seemed to slip into it almost as if it were a well worn pair of jeans. Time evaded them in their quest for normalcy and without them realising it; days had transcended into weeks and even that seemed to have passed them by. Their little flat was littered by reminders of them in almost every little nook and cranny. From their separate toothbrushes in the bathroom to their 4 towels that seemed to constantly rotate on the washing lines. They had a few left overs in the little fridge packed away in empty cartons and Styrofoam boxes that Tasneem had gotten from the restaurant. Their sleeping bags had been sold in exchange for two single bed mattresses (though Riaz had struggled to find a longer length one to suit his height) and they had even spoilt themselves with a pair of lace curtains to shield the windows from the bright morning sun.

There were times when they went to sleep without eating simply because they were too exhausted to eat and there were days when they barely saw each other save for those few minutes in the morning as they both got ready for work. Riaz would work late trying to understand the ins and outs of the refinery and when he came home Tasneem would usually be fast asleep. There were days when they had to run the two blocks, hand in hand, because they were late only to arrive to an aggravated Mr Omar as he blew angry puffs of smoke in their faces as he tsked about late deliveries.

They lived for Sundays when both could sleep in only to be awoken by misguided seagulls pecking furiously at their windows as the sun streamed down upon their faces. Mr Umar had gotten used to seeing Riaz leaning against the light pole outside as he waited for Tasneem to finish her Saturday shifts and there were days when he felt particularly generous- though he never readily admitted to it- and gifted them with a carton of chips and a large fried hake. They usually ate the chips on the way leaving the hake for the next day- saving them money on a supper for the day.

There were nights when neither could sleep, afraid of the nightmares that lurk in their dreams, and would spend hours talking of things that had no consequence. They spoke of their old teachers, their favourite foods and what it was they were allergic to. Tasneem knew never to use mushrooms in any of her food and Riaz knew to always buy Sunlight instead of Omo because Tasneem would break out into hives had she ever come into contact with it. They spoke about Mr Devenport and how Riaz felt it too odd to call him Kobie. They deliberated about whether or not Riaz actually liked the man and how it was that he managed to find a wife 30 years younger than him.

There were nights when they couldn't sleep and neither was up for talking and on those nights, Tasneem read while Riaz listened. They had gone over the same 3 books what must have been 50 different times yet still it eased their minds and allowed them both to fall into a dreamless sleep where nothing existed besides nothingness. They had fallen into a mindless system of Tasneem washing jeans if Riaz washed the shirts. She had even gotten used to the smell of fish on her body everyday and had to walk into the bathroom before she even considered doing anything else.

More than anything, Tasneem loved Wednesdays. She would be given off early if all the fish were gutted and stored away and she had peeled enough potatoes to last Mr Umar well into the night. She made sure she always finished her work early enough in order to make the 10 minute walk to the beach before the Sun made its way to its peak point in the sky. She would always take off her shoes and roll up her jeans, basking in the feel of the sand against her toes as she watched surfers deep out at sea riding waves with the dolphins behind them.

And without them knowing how and when it happened, two months had passed as if no time had passed at all...

...

He didn't like it. The life jacket around his shoulders felt as if it were suffocating and the swaying of the boat carrying him made him feel sick to his stomach. He never, ever wanted to come out on the boat but Mr Devenport had insisted that if he didn't know anything about the pumps, he would know nothing about the refinery.

He focused intently on the red threads poking their way to the tops of his white All Stars and focusing on that one thread seemed to be the only way he could forget that he was on a boat over the ocean and at any second something could happen and they could drown. He didn't know how he climbed what felt like an infinite ladder towards the top of the platform nor how he managed to concentrate when Kobie tried to explain how the hydraulics system worked nor did he remember anyone's faces or names. All he could think about what the raging ocean beneath his feet and what it felt like to beg himself to breathe knowing that breathing itself would kill him.

"Boy, you keep a tighter hold on that life jacket and you'll tear right through it." Kobie said, gripping Riaz's shoulder firmly. He knew the kid was terrified. The tapping of his feet against the floors as his knee bounced up and down was hard enough to be felt along every part of the boat. "Is it the water?"

He didn't reply. He had been 7 years old the last time he had ever stepped foot into the ocean. He was only a child when his father left his hand to chance and that had been the last time he had ever come close to even smelling the salty ocean.

"It's okay. I don't really like the water either." Kobie confessed. "But sometimes if you're scared, you might miss out on something spectacular." He nodded his head toward the horizon. The sun was fading into a red orb in the sky as it dipped down beneath the line ahead of them painting the waters in reds, golds and and deep yellows. It was a beautiful sight- there was no doubt about that but nothing could expel the fear from his mind. Not the beauty, nor the magnificence of the ocean before them could allow him to forget that it had dragged him kicking and screaming beneath its surface...

"We're almost to the shore." Kobie said gently. "Nothing will happen now."

He kept his hand on Riaz's shoulder up until they docked the boat and his legs were back on solid ground...

...

Aim high.

Aim high.

Aim high.

His body was covered in sweat. It ran down his forehead, his back, his legs. He was exhausted. He could feel his lungs begin to give in as his breaths become shallower and heavier yet he never stopped. He needed to forget what it felt like to be afraid. He hated it. He hated feeling small and insignificant. He hated knowing his fears had power over him and that his father still, inadvertently, had power over him.

His knuckles were bruised through his gloves as it compressed continuously against the red Everlast bag strung from the ceiling by a thick metal chain. He had taken off his shirt, barely caring if anyone around him saw the marks on his back and his arms and his front. His stomach was churning and he felt hot yet still, he never stopped.

Aim high.

Aim high.

Aim high.

His sides burnt with exertion. He closed his eyes, gritting his teeth against the pain. He couldn't stop. Not now...

He needed to let go.

He needed to let go.

And as he tortured his body, pushing it beyond its limits... he reached that place beyond thought and crippling fear as his physical being took over blocking out himself and his 7 year old counterpart that had been dropped into the ocean and was left to drown...

...

She was sleeping by the time he came home. She had worked the extra early shift that day and he was sure she had dropped off into her dreams as soon as her head touched her pillow. He wiped the back of his neck, wincing as he stretched out the kinks that had gathered there. Her hand was stretched over her copy of Black Beauty but its covers still lay closed as if it were never touched at all. He knelt down beside her, wondering if her bruises had faded after all that time and wondering if she found happiness where she was.

He tried extracting her book gently from beneath her hand yet her fingers only curled tighter against the covers before she moved it just a little closer to herself. "What's the time?"

He looked back at her face, surprised to see her eyes wide open as she looked at him. "I don't know."

"There's some food in the fridge if you'd like." She yawned, pulling up her sheet to cover her shoulders.

He only shook his head not at all interested in eating anything.

She sat up slowly, taking in his appearance carefully. His hair was dishevelled and his clothes still clung to him from the sweat that had gathered beneath it. But most concerting of all was the sadness that had drawn itself onto his face with a pencil that was pressed down just a little too firmly. "What happened?"

He shook his head again, instead asking her a question of his own. "Are you happy?"

"Sometimes." She answered truthfully. "Are you?"

He didn't have a reply to her question. What did happiness even feel like? He was never sure what it meant to be happy and how could he feel something he could never truly explain?

He stood up slowly, walking away towards the bathroom before shutting the door firmly behind him. He didn't know that she had gotten up right behind him until he heard her voice on the other end of the door. "Riaz, are you happy?" She asked softly, bracing her palms against the door.

Was he happy?

"Riaz?" She asked again, sounding worried as she waited for his reply. She could hear only a soft thud as he leaned back against the door.

He answered her question so softly that had she been anywhere else than right there, pressing her forehead against the dark brown, she would have missed it completely.

Are you happy?

"No."

...

He didn't know how his father knew he had lied.

But as he stood before Zaheer with a box of cigarettes in his hand, he knew without a shadow of a doubt that Zaheer had caught on to them. "So you're telling me that you stole my cigarettes?" He asked Riaz softly, holding Farhana firmly around her stomach. His sister was visibly shaking, terrified of their father would do to them. He had never had her stand before them in her pants and her thin white vest, pulled up so that her back was exposed yet her front was covered.

"Yes."

"And you're not lying?" Farhana flinched as his grip tightened around her.

He shook his head slowly, watching as his father lit a cigarette from the box with a lighter before pushing the tip firmly against the soft skin covering her spine. He could smell the putrid scent of burnt flesh as she tried to scream yet no sound came out- her body too shocked by what was happening.

"You know how I feel about lying, don't you?" He asked, still holding the tip against her skin till the skin around it her entire back had become red with panic.

"Yes." His voice was shaky, coming out as only a gasp as he lifted the cigarette to expose a black, round hump along the top of her spine.

"You know what this feels like? You remember it, right?"

He still had the marks on his back and if he felt it carefully, he could still feel the little raised indents that had never truly disappeared. Riaz nodded his head, unable to lie once again.

"So let's try it again." He said, pushing his finger gently against the charred skin of his sisters back. "Did you really steal my cigarettes or was it your sister?"

He could hear his sister's screams as his father pushd the tip of his cigarette directly below the last burn. Her body was shaking and she struggled to get out of her father's hold but her grip was too strong.

"It was Farhana." He whispered, closing his eyes as she wailed in pain and fright and her body folded in on itself, her muscles contracting not knowing what else to do. He could see the wet patch gather on her pants as her pain and her panic and her fear caused every other part of her brain to shut down.

"So she's a thief and you're a liar and you thought I wouldn't find out?" He lifted the stub off her back, marvelling at the two perfect circles along her spine."Do you know what I want you to do?"

He shook his head again, his grip tightening around the box in his hand.

"I want you to open that box and take out a cigarette." He prompted him with his hand. "Come on. Take it out."

Riaz looked down at the box, forgetting how to open the box at all before his father opened the box for him.

"Now take out a cigarette."

He dug into the box, feeling the soft filtered paper brush against his skin as he pulled out a cigarette with shaky fingers.

"Now grab a firm hold of it."

Riaz tightened his grip around it, watching in agonised silence as his father brought the tip of the cigarette to his sister's skin once again.

And amidst her screams and her cries and her yells- he could only decipher two words that had dropped from Zaheer's lips.

"Eat it."

Riaz woke up, coughing and gasping for air as invisible pain coursed through his entire body.

"Shh it's okay." He felt a hand running through his hair as he tried to breathe yet his chest was expanding and contracting too fast for him to breathe at all. "It's okay, Riaz." He was sure he could hear the sound of his own heart as its pained, crazy beats echoed throughout his whole body. His face felt damp as he rubbed his hand over it yet still he couldn't breathe. He didn't remember how to breathe and it felt as if his lungs were burning and his stomach was burning and his legs had turned to jelly. He could feel his body shaking as it did that day. He remembered pain and agonising chills that has raced through him as the poison from the cigarette begin to course through his veins. He remembered dropping to the floor and losing control of his body as he shook out of control. He remembered his sister's confusion and his father screaming for the phone but he didn't know what was happening. He only remembered trying to stop but nothing worked...

And then it stopped and it was black and he remembered nothing else after that...

"You're here Riaz. You're not in the past. It's all over." He still felt gentle fingers running through his hair as soft words found their way to his ears. "You're right here and it's all over now." Her words were close.

She was so close to him that he could feel her cold breath right next to his ear.

"It's okay. You're okay..." she continued to say until she felt his body relax and his breaths began to deepen once again.

You're right here.

You're right here.

You're right here.

He felt the back of his head hit his pillow as she leaned over him, pulling his sheet to cover his body before she ran her fingers through his hair once again. He could barely make out her expression as her features blurred and melded into the soft light surrounding them.

"You're all okay now." She said, leaning in just a little closer as she spoke softly to him.

But he needed more than just her soft words and her gentle hands through his hair. He needed to touch her. He needed to know that he was back in reality. That he really was there- that he hadn't faded into oblivion. He needed to feel... something.

He just needed to feel something other than what was running through him.

He lifted his hand, never touching her- not even once, to lie an inch away from her face.

He needed her to tell him that it was okay to touch her.

And as he waited for her, his hand resting torturously close to her face, he could feel her indecision as her hands stilled in his hair.

He just needed to touch her- only once. He just needed to feel real again.

Like this I want you, love,

Love, Like this I love you,

As you dress

And how your hair lifts up

And how your mouth smiles,

Light as the water

Of the spring upon the pure stones,

Like this I love you, beloved.

He felt it.

The barest of touches as her fingers curled around his hand, guiding him slowly to rest his palm against her cheek. Her cheek was round and soft to the touch as her skin heated up beneath his hand.

He was there.

He was real.

He was still real...

And as her fingers gripped his a little tighter, he moved his hand slowly catching hers in his hold instead before he moved her hand to rest against his chest. She could feel his heart pounding beneath her hand, as fear and pain still drummed against it.

And as the soft light washed over them, something settled over him. It was as if the stillness of the clear night sky had descended down upon them, climbing into their room only to gather them in her gentle hold. He felt calmness flow through him as if every ounce of black fear that had clung to every drop of blood had been erased as white light washed over him.

And as he watched her, his heart began to slow down just a little before he gripped her hand in his firm grasp. His heartbeat slowed down...

Slower.

Slower.

Slower.

She leaned forward, brushing her lips softly over his knuckles and like a healing balm- her kiss transcended through skin and bones, through his hand, and had found its way to the very bottom of his heart...

Until finally...

His heart began to beat normally once again...

Like this I need you,

Like this I love you.

Tomorrow we will only give them

a leaf of the tree of our love, a leaf

which will fall on the earth

like if it had been made by our lips

like a kiss which falls

from our invincible heights

to show the fire and the tenderness

of a true love.

A/N- The poem used in this chapter is called And because love battles by Pablo Neruda.