Moth To The Flame

Prologue

Izzah had seen Aadi cry only once and it was 15 years ago, at his parents' funeral. He was 10 at that time and she was, 8. Too young to understand what it meant to lose both parents in a tragic accident but old enough to feel sorry for him.

Young Aadi with innocent hazel eyes and curly hair, had one of his hands on his father's body and the other on his mother's. He cried loudly over their lifeless forms covered in white garments, surrounded by pitying and sympathizing onlookers.

That day, her eight-year-old heart had broken for him for the first time. Tears streamed down her face as she watched him wither and weep while they took his parents away. The last thing she remembered from that traumatizing day was him, running after the crowd of people who were on their way to bury his parents' bodies. For some reason, that memory remained imprinted in her mind. Even after Aadi moved in with them, taking over her room, her father, her toys, her friends, and everything she had trouble sharing. Even after he snitched on her for the first time, and the second, and numerous other times. Even after he became her number one enemy.

That particular memory of him lingered somewhere at the back of her head.

Reminding her every now and then that there was a time he was hurt and she had wished to take his pain away.