Life was hard for you, for you didn't have peace at home or peace in mind. A drunk, alcoholic dad and an abusive mother apparently does wonders to your physical and mental health. But who were you to complain for they were the ones who grew you, sheltered you and fed you in this 'cruel world' as they say.

The only time of the month, when you could be yourself , you could be at peace and exhaust yourself with your passion was here. For they, the ratchets, as someone calls them isn't here and oh, what you would've given to come to an empty house like this every day.

For the first time in a month, you sit in harmony and silence. You sit to treat the wounds on your legs, hands, anywhere there was skin. And might the fact that, you only had skin. Wounds of gushing cuts, punches, blood clots, whiplashes, name it and you had it all.

A sudden call disturbs you, but who were you to complain since it was your peace that was calling. Your friend, your soulmate, your only family, your everything. The one who kept you going all these years, the one who didn't let you loose yourself, no matter how hard the situations, the one you could always lean onto.

'A video call.' You muttered and gasped as you realized what it means. For if the ugly cut across your eyes is seen, your parents would surely not be left alone this time. But something in you told, it was fine to let loose and it was fine to let the person across the screen know you have been worse than last time. It was fine to be your hurt broken self, cause you knew that person would collect all the broken pieces and fix you back, like all the other times.

Mustering up all the little courage and confidence you have, you attend the call throwing a weak smile their way, who had their eyes wide in shock. It wasn't their first time seeing you all bruise up, you know it and they know it too but the wound you currently had, was an ugly one. A very very ugly one, you must admit. 'Hey', the mutter doesn't go unheard but it definitely goes unanswered, for they cut the call immediately.

The fear of having the only one who cares about you and the one you live for is gnawing you alive, parasiting on your feeble body. You are sinking into your depths and giving in to your negativity but a pull, a push, a punch, a crush and a THUD. Fear, empathy, anger, sadness all returns and screams from your face thinking it was your parents but only happy tears escape when you see them, your life standing there. Hands crossed, red eyes, a stance that yelled ready for a fight. Without further delay, you rush and jump on them as they catch you almost effortlessly, like they always have.

'it is time' is all they said and you understand. Running about taking everything you need, shedding a last few tears as you make your way out of there. You knew you had enough, you know your body suffered enough, you knew it was time to let go and time to start afresh with the person in front of you. So you do.

Once out and within the comfort of their home and cuddles, you let everything loose and enjoy, for you are happy and the smile that adorns you right now, returned after five years. Yes five years you had suffered and now it was the end of it all. 'What did you take with you?' they asked and your smile stretched even more as you push it towards them. 'Memories' you said and they knew it your memories with them, memories you have together, memories you reminisce through in your hard times, memories to help you remember you are not alone. The memories that have frozen times and laughter in the from of photos.

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A/N:- they, them are used for your one friend. since i didn't want to give a gender to this entire thing, i decided to use them and they for collectiveness....

is this form of writing short stories better, or do you prefer it in first person mode instead??

~sky~