Destiny's Gamble

Insight

"I'll do my best." I take in a deep breath, as I pop the kit's lid open. As I'm taking out the tweezers, I realize my hand is shaking. Hastily I clamp my right hand over my left. What's wrong with me? Never before have I been this nervous. Not even when I tend to my own wounds. 

I remember when once before my car had overturned while I was trying my best to master the art of drifting, and a shard of metal had embedded itself in my side. That night I had to perform the painful task of tending to such a serious wound, and even then I wasn't half as nervous as I am tonight. 

With my leather jacket acting as a temporary bandage around my stomach, I gingerly made my way into the house. All the lights were off, no one expecting my return as always. Dropping my keys beside the door, I slipped off my shoes. The task took longer than expected, simply because I was trying my level best to not move my center too much. Even a light touch to the wound would cause me to drop to my knees and begin sobbing like a child who has lost his mother. 

Gripping whatever came my way - the console, the back of a chair, the edge of a wall - I limped my way towards my room. My left ankle is bent at an odd angle, but at least it isn't leaking a bucket of blood by the second. I should be at a hospital, but Nyonika has strictly told me not to fall under the light of the media. The deal is that she lets me be if I don't drag her name into useless issues. After all, she has her respectable name to maintain. Especially considering she just earned her spot in the limelight. 

I make a detour towards the kitchen. I don't know what supplies the first aid kit contains, but I'm sure something or the other will come in handy. The corner of the kitchen counter brushes against my wound, causing me to halt in my tracks and bite down hard on my lower lip. The metallic taste of blood fills my mouth, as my fist tightens around the counter-top. Black spots dance in front of my eyes, causing my vision to go out of focus. 

No, I cannot faint. If I do, no one will come to my aid. I will lay here, swimming in a pool of my own blood, and die. This is not how I will end. Not yet. I know the day will come soon when I'll pass over due to some stupid act of mine, but tonight isn't that moment. I don't fool myself into believing that I'll manage to survive for another twenty years even - after all, how many times will whatever Higher Power is up there save me from death - but dying in my teenage years isn't the plan. 

My vision refocuses itself, the kitchen cabinets becoming clear to me once more. I widen my eyes to as far as they can go and continue the painful path towards the drawer in which the box is kept. Once I've got it in my clutches, I turn around - tears blurring my vision - and continue on my way towards my room. As I near my room, my eyes glance over towards Nyonika's room, which is right opposite mine. Of course the light is still on. If I know my mother at all she'll be getting ready to head out to some party right now. One in which she will flirt and grant sick favors for a bunch of men, who in turn will help build her empire. 

I drop the first aid box onto the bedside table. Its plastic base clatters against the glass tabletop. With movements which would seem even slow to the eldest, most unfit people, I lower myself onto the mattress of my bed. As soon as my ass makes contact with the bed, a flaring pain shoots through my wound and all around my abdomen. My eyes scrunch themselves shut, the lids feeling heavy, as if rocks have been tied down to them. 

I haven't even turned on the lights in my room, or the fan. Drops of sweat - both from the heat and from the pain - break out across my forehead. I rest my head on a pillow, taking short breaths, so that my center doesn't move too much. I hear a click to my right. I turn my head in the direction of Nyonika's room. She steps out of it, a strapless black, knee length dress hugging her figure tightly. It shows off every curve and covers a very little portion of her skin. Just how she likes it. 

I think the worst thing a teenage boy could undergo is having his peers check out his mom, finding her sexy, and her reciprocating their advances. Thereby adding fuel to the fire. 

Nyonika's eyes land on me through the dark. She stops and instead of making her way towards the front door comes towards my room. 

"Manik, what're you doing in the dark?" She asks, switching on the lights and fan. Her eyes scan the length of my body - taking in my bloodied figure - her brows furrowing just a bit. Of course nothing on her face will move. There's so much bloody Botox on it. "What have you done?" 

I don't talk to my mother much. Neither do I ever complain to her about anything. Not when there's no dinner for me, or when I burn my hand trying to make myself some food from whatever little knowledge I have about cooking. I don't cry to her when the guys in my class taunt me for having a whore as a mother. Nor do I seek her help in tending to my wounds when I fight them and they all gang up on me, inflicting bruises all across my skin. But for some reason tonight I want her to hear my cries, as I clean myself up.

"Ma," the word sounds so strange falling from my lips. "I'm in pain." My voice chokes towards the end. Nyonika's eyes land on the first aid kit on the bedside table. She makes her way into my room and opens it. "It pains," I repeat, my voice just above a hushed whisper. There's no more strength left in me. 

Is she really going to help me? Will my mother actually come through this time and take on the role of parenthood? Am I going to feel the motherly touch everyone talks about? The one I crave so desperately.

"Here," Nyonika says, as she chucks a strip of medicine towards my chest. The rectangular foil lands onto my body, right above my heart. "Take that. It'll help with the pain. I'll get someone to come and fix this mess you've caused." Her eyes follow the trail of blood I've left in my wake. "What a mess," she grumbles. "Varun is coming and now I can't even call him inside for a drink." 

Her phone begins to ring, distracting her at once. Without offering me a second glance, Nyonika turns around, and answers the phone. She tells whoever is on the other end of the line that she'll be right there. 

"Take the pills!" She calls out, as I hear the front door slam shut a few seconds later. No one came to help me ease my pain. Knowing Nyonika, she probably forgot due to the events of the night. The medicine's strip shouldn't weight much at all, and it probably didn't. But that night it felt as if my heart was sinking to the floor with the pressure of a mountain. 

That was the last time I ever called Nyonika, 'Ma.' 

And now I'm all too familiar with all the items in a first aid box. Hell, I can even differentiate between a good and bad one. That's the number of times the occasion has risen when I am required to tend to my wounds. The only time in which I didn't was when Angel helped me in the bathroom of her house, or when she took care of me like a mother when I was ill. 

I remember being so confused that night as to why she was helping me. No one aids another when they're getting absolutely nothing in return, and yet she did. Angel was a nobody to me at the time and without seeking any benefits from me - without even wanting to taunt me with the favor later on - she cleaned the mess I'd made, and stayed with me all night.

That was the first night when I realized she's special and different from the Devils that plague this world. She showered me with her light that night, the likes of which I'd never seen before. A source so bright that it still haunts me till date. This is another thing that keeps me awake at night; the thought of why her Aiyappa sent one of his Angels to us. Doesn't He know that we'll simply pollute her until there's no light left? Isn't He aware of the fact that Devils like me are the reason why Angels cannot survive on this planet? And the irony of this entire situation is that she's now living with me. 

 Wouldn't the human race be better off if more Angels like her helped bring light to this universe, instead of Devils, who simply pollute it for their own selfish reasons and needs? My darkness is what repels people from me and I'm simply awaiting the day it pushes her away as well. After all, no one sticks around with me for long. I'm just not worth it.