Morphine

five : come home

I welcomed the loud, throbbing music that reverberated throughout my whole body. It was something I hadn't heard much.  

Standing outside my house, after a long and tiring journey, I couldn't help but let the nostalgia flow. It was sad and mean and depressing and unfair as hell. But I was here now. After years of being kidnapped. After everything that had happened, I did not realise this moment would happen. I was going to walk through that door. Do they still live here? Do they still remember me?  

After a million years, I reached the doorway. The garden was fresh and it made me feel a little more alive. The evening sunlight tangled in the grass, the breeze which helped ease the years of pain and emotional destruction.  

I took a deep breath as my finger touched the doorbell. It shook and shook until the only way it would be steady was with the help of my other hand. I pushed the button and heard a disturbingly loud gong that repeated several times. 

What to expect? What to not expect? Why to expect? What to do? How to do? Uninvited tears started clouding my vision.  

10, 20, 40, 70, 120 seconds I waited. No reply.  

They were probably not at home. They probably didn't remember me. But the music was playing... 

I turned around ready to leave when I heard the door open.  

"Yes?"  

Mother. Her voice was heavenly and the tears began flowing. I turned around slowly.  

"Hi mum." I tried to smile.  

Her eyes widened and instantly I was being hugged, kissed, touched, hugged more and kissed more. There were tears everywhere. Tears on my face, her face, the floor, the sky, the dark world that was my mind.  

"Meira." She said my name. Over and over and over again.  

"I'm back." I laughed through the tears. "I'm actually back." My voice sounded raspy due to years of under-use, torture, jaw ruination and many more unnamable things.  

We sat in the living room. It looked just the way it was when I was twelve. The big flatscreen TV, the peach coloured walls with pictures of lovely higlands, seas and...me. I stared at them hard.  

How unfair this all was.  

Mum immediately called Dad and he arrived in just ten minutes.  

They didn't care that I looked like shit. They didn't care that I was reduced to broken limbs and torn flesh. They got their daughter back. I got my parents back.  

Neither of them dared to ask me "How are you?" The answer to that was a bitch. It was better left unasked. They looked just the same. Mum with her dark black hair that reached down below her shoulders, obviously grown longer since I was twelve. Her hands were a little wrinkled. That just made me cry more because I must have missed her beauty freak-outs and old-age tantrums. Dad looked older too. Receding hairline, bigger arms, but his eyes still remained the strong greyish-green.  

Nobody said much. Nobody said anything. I lied on the sofa, my head on mum's lap and my feet cradled in dad's hands. They caressed, kissed and embraced me. As the music played, I sat there believing I was dreaming. A cruel, beautiful dream conjured up by my destroyed mind...

 The music. I jumped up, only hurting myself. "Milan." I whispered.  

"He's upstairs." They said with sad smiles.  

I tried not to run, but I couldn't help it. The thought of seeing Milan, my other half, after years of separation. My pain was the least of my problems.  

The music led me to a room in the second floor. The door was slightly open. I peeked in. Milan. How did he look now? Had he changed? Was his voice husky like how it was in my dream? Did he remember who Meira is? I saw him sitting in front of a laptop typing away furiously. I just stared for a couple of seconds, taking in everything about him. 

His lean body, his dark hair, his muscly arms, his broad shoulders. His room was different. The walls used to be bright white, but now they were a dull indigo colour. There were shelves upon shelves with CDs and books.  

Reconciliation with Milan. I could die. 

 I held my breath and knocked on his door. As he turned around, I pushed the door open further. His eyes found mine and I cried all over again. He was so much more different. His sharp jaw, a nose just like mine, slightly raised bushy eyebrows.  

In not less than 0.9 seconds, I was in his arms. "Meira." He hugged me hard but let go when I winced. "You're here."  

"I am." I couldn't believe it. I was away from Bansik. Away from eventual death by whips, knives and fire. I was here with my family. I was here with Milan. I was finally here with my twin brother.  

I was home.

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Thanks. 

A tiny message to my two sexy people: You guys. I love ya'll ok? Always. I know you probably don't. But I do. You sort of changed my life a little bit. You made me better. You made me smile. You helped me realise that I am not a boring person (even though you know how much that word broke me). I'll always play bball with ya'll in my dreams. I will never forget ya'll. You also try not to please? 

Keep warm  

~Nymisha