CHAPTER 2

" soothing inflammation "

A pair of brown eyes meet mine, and I'm 6 year old again.

Laughter floats around the playground and there I can see little Nandini being chased by little Manik, and soon making little Nandini trip and cr-

I'm snapped out of those memories as his shooting voice inflames the dark silhouettes against my tormented petal-like soft heart. “ Remember Me?” is his first question. And I want to say, of course I do. Because, your eyes.

“Manik ....” My lips curve around the shape of his name and I'm forced to look away, down at my shoes as his lips form into a delicate smile and my spine cracks open and I swear for the first time I'm actually seeing what kind of shoes I'm wearing, but that's not what bothers me, the fact that I can still feel his tender gaze studying my every move ,how my shoulder rise and I breathe in pale pink; makes me want to go and hide myself in the dark silhouettes of the night.

To make the spot disappear off my eyes I close them as I try to breath, but I can not . Do not look at me, is what I want to say; but I and he, both know the fact that it's his eyes that makes me melt for him.

Manik, my heart. My sweet little secret.

“Who's there?” From inside comes the voice and it doesn't take me a second before I remember, it's his mom.

“If I'm not quite wrong, dear God if it's not Nandini” she says as she reaches towards me before taking my hand in her and I'm suddenly self-conscious. She greets my mother, and wrapping a hand around my shoulder takes me into the house as from the corner of my eyes I see Manik picking up mom's bags.

“Manik, take her bag” Aunty indicates towards my bag.

“No, it's fine, I can take it-“ I try to protest but before I say, he's already taking the bag out of my shoulder and the closeness of distance is too much to bear.

“Come, I will take you to your room”

Composing my heart, I walk behind Manik along the hallway, my eyes never rising up before I hear

“This is your room” Aunty declares and my eyes wander around the room.The walls of the room has a soft-cream color and there's a big window beside which the bed is placed draped in a warm fluffy cover with lots of pillows on it . There's a small wooden table on which there's a lamp. My eyes catch the little balcony which brings in the moon light. On the opposite wall of the bed there's a TV. Beside the TV there's a door for bathroom, I guess then there is a cupboard, a study table and a shelf full of books that I'm wi- “I hope you like the room”

I'm snapped out of my thoughts and welcomed with a warm smile of Manik's mom. I look at her. From the expression on her face it's clear that she's thinking I don't like it. I should smile, that would make her worries vanish.

I smile.

I smile and remind myself

not worth enough.

•••

I'm drowning and destructing and living in all those cold night clouded with nightmares.  My heart is sad, ready to rain down. Now, I find my heart, of broken glass-skin dipped into the memories of stonewashed tragedies, which once was sparkling glitter.

My head kisses my knees and I'm hugging all the ugliest layers of shame , wishing the silence to speak up to me, as those sheds of tears washes away the blood dripping down.

"Nandini...?"I gasp. "Are you in there?"

I look down.

Blood. The old cuts, dripping blood.

My heart is in my mouth and I can feel  adrenaline rushing through my veins. I'm sinking away, and slipping away, far away from my mind and my hands are wet with blood and my throat is dry and I don't know what to do and words are stuck ,they are buried deep inside my chest and I can't breath, I can't breath, I can't bre- "Nandini.. .?!"

Don't speak. You will ruin everything.

"Nand-"

"Yeah, I'm in... I-I was just taking shower... you know-"

"Oh it's perfectly fine. I came here because dinner is ready. I called you but you didn't answer and the door was open, so I thought you might be here. It's okay, take your time"

oh.

"oh. okay" I'm suddenly mopping away all the blood with tissues as the water washes over.
E

verything is happening so fast I don't know how to handle it and from the look in the mirror all I see is I'm a mess right now.

Mirrors can never lie. For all I know, as I take a glace at it, it shows all I'm.

Speckled.

Rusted.

shattered.

Where demons sing, angles cry.

“Nandini...?” He's still here.

“Huh? ”

“You... you're okay, right?”

“Nandini...?”

“yeah... I'm.. I mean... yeah I'm fine — perfectly fine...yeah”  as I say the words, I can hear my blood screaming to let my skin open. My stone-cold long nails dig into my glass-like skin. I knew I would ruin everything if I speak so I hurry up as fast as I can and put clothes on after cleaning myself.

Finally I open the door of hell realm and suddenly my cheeks are unintentionally flushed. With the each step I take, every cell in my body starts moving so fast that it's all blurring at the end and I'm losing. There's a cacophony which I'm unable to stop. I look up and he's looking at me. Those  eyes linger on me for a moment and I'm trying to pick myself by piece by piece. It's so hard for me to hold myself back from running into the bathroom again. I try to hide my face with my hair as I clutch the hem of my shirt tightly.

And I know his eyes are judging

judging and comparing.

My tears, they're winning again, but I don't want to cut myself open in front of him because I'm afraid, of course.

“Your hair... - “ a pause. “Won't you fix your hair?”

I don't want to tell these pretty lies. Not to him.  One look in the mirror and thousands needles are injected inside me. I'm so...

Why can't you realize what you show, is killing me. Inflammation fleets down drenching my heart into the elation of suffocation.

My hairs, I don't know what to do with them. It's not worth enough.

“let's go” I say firmly. He nods and I follow him  while trying to listen to him but of course I fail miserably.

As we approach near the dinning table, the voices comes floating.

Food is served. Spotlights are on me.

I'm quiet.
Manik is studying his food and me.

And moms are talking, but I don't seem to be able to open my mouth, I stay silent while all the questions are piled up on me, but the thing that leaves me decrepit is his stare, his overwhelming eyes upon me. The serenity in his eyes amidst the voices in my head, that are telling me to hide myself, takes the stale river of emotions miles away and I'm unable to look away from him. I don't find any place to run or hide — hide from those eyes and I'm afraid that he might perforate the stagnate place that I've locked years ago and threw the key to the place where no-one has ever been able to go.

“Why are you so quiet?” is her question.

I recite the question. Why I'm so quiet?

I'm tired of trying - trying to smile, trying to pretend , trying to make me feel worthy though I know I'm. The dried petals are yanked away mercilessly from the withering flowers that are inside my chest, once again reminding me that I'm just an anonymous shout into the void, just an empty question without any answer.

I hide my scars to let people know that they can't heal. Those are better hidden, away from the sunlight because sunlight might awaken the pains. Scars has healed. Has the pain too?

Because I made this decision. Because when it's hurting so much , all I want to do is shut up. I feel so numb, but it's just the fact that I'm stupid — dumb enough to let people question me why I'm so quiet, but I don't find the urge to speak up. It's all just so messed up.

This moment I would've just locked myself in room and distanced myself, kept myself away from all these chaos, could've just let myself sink in the silence of the room, but here I'm now, trapped. I don't know how to keep myself steady.

I wish I could do better.
But everytime I try it's not good enough.
not good enough
Never fucking good enough.

So I stay silent, yet again and look down.

And remind myself, yet again.
Not worth enough.

•••

I'm drown in the bed, under the covers ; silent as I feel how the silence of the room is tugging at the threads of my agony. The night is limp, carved in the palms of my hands. From the window I observe how the curtain of sky has fallen and all those stars are shining in the pitch black night as the moon whispers the same recognisable lilt with a faint hint.

I live

another day,

d y i n g.

____

I don't know why I stopped writing, I'm sure none of you remember me. hehe but if anyone of you is reading this, trust me that would mean a lot. Thank you.