Deep in sleep, I heard a constant beeping sound echoing around me, much like the sound I heard on the beach that day before-
My eyes instantly flew open when I remembered that terrifying day. Before I could process my thoughts more clearly, I realised the sound was coming from my cell phone across the room. Lazily, I rubbed my eyes and pushed the covers aside, up on my feet now to catch hold of the phone that kept buzzing away annoyingly.
"Hello?" I cleared my throat and spoke into the phone, my voice sounding so raspy that I could barely hear myself talk.
The only response I got from the other side was silence.
"Hello?" I repeated, assuming the person across the line wouldn't have heard me the first time. "What the fuck?" My sleep returned and I barely stifled a yawn. "Who the hell do you think you are to call someone in the middle of the night? Literally at-"
I jerked the phone away from my ear to check out the time.
[Alt Text: Image of a lockscreen with a young couple's silhouette. Text reflected is — Good Night. 3:06 a.m. Monday, 08 June 2015. Unlock prompt — Swipe up to do great things today.]
It was really late and since there was no response to my outburst, I had already started assuming the person would have dialled my number by mistake. But just as I was about to hang up, I noticed the caller ID on my phone screen. A familiar name reflected on my screen, filling me with a lot of confused emotions.
Lyra Sparks
"Lyra? Is this you?" I rolled my eyes. She was technically a sleepyhead — someone who never woke up to the loudest of sounds until she had a proper, sound sleep — and I couldn't figure out any reason for her to call me at such an odd timing. Was it just a butt-dial or an accidental call?
Thinking of it as a glitch, I was about to hang up when I heard something on the other side. The faintest of sounds, a very muffled noise. As if she had a hand wrapped around her mouth. When I stayed silent, the voice on the other end got a bit more noticeable. It wasn't too loud, more like a groan coming out of a dry throat.
"Lyra? Are you alright?" My senses were in alert mode now, alarmed and all traces of sleep were gone from my eyes now.
She didn't say a word but I didn't have it in me to hang up the phone or ask anything else. Pressing my ear to the phone, I tried to listen to even the lowest, slightest bit of sound.
After about two minutes of nothingness, she accidentally whimpered out loud and I could picture her biting her lip to shut herself up. A few seconds later, she managed to talk, still whimpering. "D, um, would you mind if I- like, can I um, c- come over or something."
I was too perplexed and out of words to react.
After a pause, she added. "Please?"
I gave it a thought. Dad wasn't home and wasn't going to be back for a few days since he was away in Westersnow, attending an event, a celebration for himself, where he was going to get transferred and promoted as the Police Commissioner of Westersnow. So, obviously, there was no way he was going to drive and come home all the way from Westersnow to Blackmount in the middle of the night for absolutely no reason.
"You know what?" Lyra quickly gathered herself. "Neve-"
It never struck me amidst all the technicalities I was worrying about that something was wrong with Lyra. Because why else would she call me, almost crying, in the middle of the night? And why would she beg to let her stay at my place? Something was definitely off, especially by the way she mistook my silent consideration as hesitation. I wasn't going to leave her alone like this. Not when she needed me and had dared to ask for help.
"Sure." I whispered. "I'll be waiting and don't worry, you can ring the doorbell." She must have heard what I said but hung up without a word. And to be honest, I wasn't sure if she was going to show up or not.
She did.
But since the moment she came here, she was all awkward gestures and fake smiles. As if she thought she was being a mere inconvenience, as if she was trying to avoid me. I wasn't sure why. I tried to be patient and let her open up once she was comfortable. But when it felt like she wasn't going to bring it up at all, pretending nothing had happened, I was forced to ask her.
"Will you tell me what it is?" I questioned, sighing and giving her a frustrated look. At this point, she was lying not just to me but to herself too.
And the quiet that hung between us scared me more than her intrusive thoughts ever did. Because ever since she came here, she didn't feel like my Lyra at all. She was someone else — like a new phase of the moon that I had never seen before, like a starless sky, like a rose with no petals and just thorns.
"I'm hungry. Can we please cook something?" She gave me a smile to mask away the pain but it didn't quite reach her eyes.
I simply pursed my lips into a tight line and nodded in response. Who was she trying to fool? Did she really think this low of me? That one plastered smile could make me believe she was alright when something way too dreadful was going on within her?
She sliced away a pineapple, carefully removing the thorny spikes without causing an injury and I tried to help her but she didn't let me. Maybe she wanted some alone time to process what was going on. And maybe I was invading her privacy. This thought made me step back and I watched her chop the pineapples from a safe distance.
"Go ahead." She nudged me and though she meant I could go ahead and taste a slice she just chopped, I completely misunderstood, lost in a maze of my own thoughts.
"What is it?" I asked, though the answer was obvious. The red marks on her skin, the way she occasionally gasped for air and the way she constantly looked at me for reassuring herself she was safe said it all. But I wanted to hear it from her. And my patience was wearing down with each passing second.
"Pass me the dressing, please." She tried to change the topic and focused on her salad but I knew she was so close to breaking down, yet holding herself somehow, stronger than ever before. Why was she torturing herself like this? What was going on in her mind? I needed to find out; I needed answers or I'd lose my own mind any minute now.
Grabbing her by her shoulders, I forced her to face me and she watched me with wide eyes. "Lyra. Just spit it out, already?"
She pushed me away with full force and continued cutting the pineapple into thin, round slices. My gut instinct kept telling me that either something was about to go way too wrong or something already had. But why now? Why when things were finally looking up?
We had fought through this together for so long now and it was as if, all along, we were just building a fragile house of cards. One breeze and it was all about to break and turn into dust. Maybe that's the power of bad experiences. They can so easily taint every happy memory in your head, making you replay just the things and people you wish to forget most.
There was no way I was going to let Lyra slip away like this again. Not when I had already lost her once. Till date, I was confident things would be different this time but looking at her right now, I'm not so sure. And the mere possibility of Lyra killing herself again scared the living daylights out of me.
"Lyra?" I angrily pulled her hand and in the haste, the knife managed to leave a small cut on her index finger. Though the cut was tiny, it bled profusely in an instant, as if her body was eagerly looking forward to giving up as well. Her blood dripped on the chopping board, painting all the chopped pineapples a shade of maroon. Needless to say, it brought back memories I wanted to run away from most.
I panicked to find the first aid box, not being able to remember where I had placed it after using it the last time. Once I was able to locate it, I held her hand and gently washed the cut with a medicine before carefully bandaging it. "Sorry." I mouthed, hanging my head low.
To my surprise, she laughed — a laugh so loud and scary that it echoed throughout the room and made me gasp in shock — with an indecipherable look on her face, as if she was either going to snap and shout or end up crying horribly any minute now. I couldn't help but keep staring at her with an amused look. "Gosh!" The look on her face was deadly, to say the least. "This literally explains everything you wanted to hear."
"What? How?" I deadpanned.
Shaking her head, she began to explain. "It's just so easy for people to hurt you and say sorry. After that, everything is somehow alright for them. Magically, like nothing even happened in the first place. But only the one who has been through it understands — how the pain never ends despite all the bandages and protection."
I couldn't open my mouth to speak. This couldn't be just about the pineapples and the cut, could it?
Her lips quivered but she drew in a sharp breath and continued. "Little do they understand it never remains the same as it was before. The pain doesn't go away that easily. The skin never remains the same anymore; because when it grows back again, the colour is different and brighter than the normal skin, making it more difficult to forget. Because the very thing that you want to forget is in front of you all along." She took a deep breath.
Lyra was crying already but I couldn't muster the courage to wipe her tears. I had no idea how to console her when all that she said hit my sensitive nerves, triggered memories I wanted to forget most. This all hit a little too close to home for me and I didn't know how to get her out of the quicksand when I, myself, was sinking right into it.
"And as time passes, the pain fades and people forget about it. But the one who has gone through it has to carry all of it. The scars, the marks, the wavering trust, the regret, the hatred, the blame." Her voice cracked, but she composed herself soon.
I finally asked, trying to ignite a light of hope in her dark world. "But there's got to be a way out, right?"
"Oh, there sure is!" The laughter in her voice was clearly sarcastic. "There are painkillers and makeup to cover it all up. To hide it away and pretend nothing was wrong at all. Or even to end it all at once probably."
It took me a while to figure out she was talking about suicide; which she thought would end the pain and replace all bad memories with good ones. Because after a person's death, we tend to forget the bad experiences and try to focus more on the positive attributes they had. All we remember while we mourn their death is the happy memories, the times we wanted to cherish forever but couldn't.
And I couldn't help but think if anyone would miss me if I died. If I even had happy memories with people that would want to hold onto. Helplessly, I bargained. "No other way out?"
She shook her head and a tear left her eye. "Not if you don't want to keep rubbing off on everyone, somehow, unconsciously, unintentionally ruining their life too." She gestured at the tainted pineapples, bathed with her blood, implying how she'd pass on her pessimism to all those close to her.
And then, her gaze fell on me. On how she'd pass on all the negativity to me. Her eyes had a deep look in them, as if they were trying to scream out a million things to me but I couldn't understand even one. She took my hands in hers and rubbed her thumb on my left hand's vein, taking her time to piece the next few words carefully. "I want you to live, D. I want you to be happy."
"You're my happiness, Lyra." I bit my lip so I wouldn't join her as she cried. "I don't need anything else."
Turning away from me, she shook her head and washed the tainted slices of pineapple. Deciding they weren't fit to eat anymore, she dumped all of it into the trash can, somehow implying that her life was one such tainted pineapple — worthy to be discarded, thrown away just like that.
Her actions sparked something in me and I struggled to voice out a question I probably didn't want her to answer. "Do- do you ever wish you could restart your life all over again?" She played with her curls and looked at her feet instead of looking at me. "Like, a new life, new birth because you end up thinking this one's too messy and unfixable?"
After a long moment of silence, she whispered. "No." When she looked into my eyes, tears streamed down her face and she looked at me like I was the bandage holding her wounded life together. "Because if I'm ever born again as someone else or if I get a new life, I'd risk not having you here, with me."
My jaw dropped, speechless and stunned.
"And that's not a risk I'm willing to take." She didn't hide the way her voice broke and started sobbing. "I don't want a life without you in it, D."
Unable to stay away, I rushed by her side and held her face in my arms, watching her cry for the risk she didn't even have to worry about. Pressing a light kiss on her forehead, I wiped her tears and smiled at her when she dared to look at me again. "Bold of you to assume I wouldn't find you in every single lifetime."
She inhaled sharply, parting her lips, when I tilted my head till our noses rubbed against each other. Finally leaning in, I tried to calm my racing heart as our lips met for the first time.
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Random Question - Which is your favourite fruit?
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Author's Note - Heya, so, how's this chapter? Thank you all so much for your response; I love reading your comments and feedback <3
Did you like the way Lyra finally opened up to Diego this time? And who saw that kiss coming? Any guesses on what happens ahead? We have really few chapters left now so this book is going to be ending soon :')
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Stay amazing!