Suddenly, the excitement burns out as I stare at her car. Matsya slams the car open, the car creaking as she does. It's a small car, mint colored and odd. Honestly, I expected Matsya to own a motorcycle or something more on the verge of death. Instead, she brings out a small car that I would expect a grandma to drive.
"This is your car?" I ask, opening the door as the scent of male deodorant hits me. With a breath in, I gag and start to cough. "You're a deodorant addict?" My questions swirl in my head and instead of asking them, I slide into the seat while taking a sip of my lemonade drink.
"I borrowed Amir's car for the night," she explains and she leans back to the seat at the back of the car. I watch her and spot some cans -- of deodorant? Who's Amir anyway? Her boyfriend? A recovering addict of deodorant?
She brings a can back, shaking it as I read the label. In white writing over the black covering of the cylinder, the label clearly states it's a spray can. My hand grabs it from her red painted nail, gasping at in horror. "You want me to tag my parent's house?!" I exclaim. "Did you forget it's kind of illegal?!"
Matsya smiles at me as I glare at her. It's one of her rare genuine smiles, she's having fun with this. "It's past eleven. We'll paint a few rainbows and leave while your parents snore away," she answers, taking the can out of my hands before throwing it at the back.
"How do you make it so casual?" I mutter, looking out at the window while Matsya starts the car. The bright lights of the third floor blind me slightly and strangely, I can't hear a sound. Maybe the rooms are sound proof. "Why do you have spray cans lying in your car?"
With a sigh, I point to the right and Matsya turns the car. "Amir likes to paint," she states, her eyes determined on the road. At least she's not trying to get us killed, even though in a few hours we might end up in jail. Silence overtakes the car and for a few moments we sit, quiet as ever with nothing but the street lights left to guide us.
Finally, I spot the red house. It takes my breath away and for a moment, my heart stops while staring upon my childhood home. Memories surge past me, reminding me of what I've lost. Moments were painfully taken away from me, family members, everything I knew had been torn away years ago.
Everything that I knew as a child had been broken in half in a day. All these moments were forced to be packed away as a slight scar is left on my heart. Still, I can heat my laughter floating in the air as I played with the neighbours, I can remember swinging on the swing that now limply lies under the tree, sitting alongside my mother as she read me a story before I fall asleep and my father's reassuring voice.
The memories are intoxicating me, each one a stab in the heart. My parents don't care about me anymore - I was never good enough for them. More than anything, I long for them, for warm arms to wrap themselves around my waist and let these tears spill.
My head drops down and I use my hands to hold it. It's as if everything is moving too fast and I'm finally realizing what's happening. Tear droplets fall to the car's carpet. Frantically, I wipe them away and face Matsya. "I'm sorry, I can't do this," I state, my voice croaky compared to before.
Her eyes peer into mine, filled with warmth and worry. More than anything, I want to climb out of the car. I'm not meant to be emotional, not infront of someone like Matsya. In a few weeks, I've managed to show her my most devastated side without knowing her. My hands drop to my side and I watch out of the window, towards the neighbor's house.
"It's okay," she says, her hands enveloping mine with her warmth. Instead of asking why, she remains silent. Maybe she understands that everything is moving too fast. I've removed myself from my old life, I've removed traces of it everywhere and tried to distance myself from it.
But now, everything is rushing to the top. Emotions are bubbling and most of them is sadness at what I've lost. I want to huddle in my old blanket again, with the waft of my mother's cooking coming to my room. I want my father to be humming to himself downstairs, chatting with my mum as my brother kicks a goal in the backyard.
I want the feeling of being safe, of knowing what will be next and feeling of a family. I want it all back now, I want to ruffle my brother's hair again and laugh with my dad as my mother impersonates him. Why did this happen to me, why couldn't it happen to someone else? I didn't do anything wrong, why am I living with this sin?
With another tear falling to the carpet, I realize to my parents, I am the sin. My existence meant nothing to their beliefs, their love for me vanished within moments. Instead of wallowing in grief, anger heats up within a moment. How dare they take everything I know so quickly? Steal my younger brother from me, my childhood and my life before my eyes?
I slam the door open without thinking and bite my lip hesitantly while Matsya comes out. On her left side, a black bag bangs against her hip and she walks over to me. Her heels click agaisnt the pavement and the light brightens the place up, allowing me to see her better.
"Are you sure?" she asks, her eyes searching my face for a trace of emotions. I smile at her and grab her bag to place on the side of my hip. Without showing any emotion, I start to walk with her on my side.
"Of course. How good is your tagging skills anyways?" I ask, causing Matsya to laugh while I search for a red spray can. I take it out, the metal chilly on my skin as I stare at the red house and bite my lip harshly for wanting to ring the doorbell.
I've spent years being sad, it's time to get revenge now. I throw the can to Matsya who swiftly catches it better than I ever could. Years of PE couldn't get me enough talent to catch that well. "I've never done this," she confess, her voice a whisper.
We walk around the perfect garden, stepping on these stone tiles as the moon guides us along the way. "So I'm doing this with a unprofessional?" I sigh. "Great."
Matsya rolls her eyes at me, stepping beside me as I stop walking. Her heels are most likely stained with grass now. The ground sinks a bit whenever I take another step towards the house. The wall is painted a shade of white without a mark on it. What a pity.
With a glance to Matsya who starts off my shaking the can and then opening the can, I copy her but instead using a orange can. A sly grin appears on my face and I desperately want to laugh but instead I watch our handicraft carefully. The scent of spray paint fills my nose and I sneer in disgust at the scent.
This is definitely illegal.
□
A few moments later, we look at our handicraft. In amazement, I take a few steps back and admire the rainbow. Over it, in a text that looks oddly simular to a five year old it says, "fuck off." I have to say, the effect is extremely magical and causes some snickers to rise in me.
Beside me, Matsya starts to laugh and she starts to walk towards the backyard instead of the front. With a frown, I jog up to her. I would call her but that would wake up my family - if they lived here. The thought runs through my mind but a deep snore interrupts my thought. No one can ever imitate that snore, it's most likely my dad.
My stomach seems to sink slightly, filling itself with sadness. My hands grab Matsya's arm, pulling her back to me. "Where are you going?" I whisper, my voice remaining low as Matsya looks at me with a smile. Her smile is beautiful, the way it brightens up her features somehow cause my stomach to slightly flip over.
"Shouldn't we explore the house a bit more?" she grins, hinting to tag more places. With a laugh, I let go off her arm and she takes a step forward before I can stop her. A gasp arises on my lips and my hands fly to Matsya, wrapping themselves around her as she falls into my arms.
Instead of looking at Matsya, I look at the sprinkler she stepped on in fear and weary. As a kid, we called it the bomb. The sprinkler is usually covered by mud and easy to step over. With a step however, the sprinkler activates and causes everyone to get wet (anyone within two metres falls victim to this). My mum constantly told my dad to fix it but he normally shrugs it off.
I don't think that fact would change. My eyes fall onto Matsya and I mouth 'I'm so sorry' while she frowns at me. Her body leans on my arms and if I lift her up slightly, we'd be holding each other in bridal style.
Unfortunately, the lack of PE means I have little upper body strength. The first splashes of water fall onto my face and we fall to the ground, I twisting myself to block the water from Matsya. I would like to say that we fell out of surpirse of the water but I know it's because I have zero hopes of holding someone up without dropping them.
The water splashes on my back and on my neck. It's cold and I shrivel at the touch of it trickling down my neck. Matsya starts to laugh at my expressions, her eyes brightening at my dislike of the water. Hearing her laughter starts to make me chuckle at how ridiculous this is.
I'm at my parent's house, tagging rainbows and swears, lying on grass over someone who I'm slightly afraid of and have water messing up my perfectly done hair. The laughter dies off silently while I watch her, my heart speeding up at her red lips.
Matsya's laugh dies off somewhere and she watches my eyes with eyes filled with curiosity. It only takes a second for me to feel her lips against mine, hers smooth while mine is most likely jagged from biting it so much.
My eyes close and I find myself enjoying the way her lips feel against mine. The dirt that sinks into my hands doesn't matter anymore and neither does the water that falls everywhere but the grass. All that matters is the way her lips fall against mine, enough to quieten all my emotions and fill them with nothing but . . . desire?
"Hey!" A scream interrupts us and I move myself off Matsya in shock. I would trade anything to carry on but instead my eyes meet an angry old man I know as my father. His body peeks out of the window and I grab Matsya's hand.
Her face is dark and I look up to the sky to realize clouds are blocking the moonlight. With my heart stuck in my throat, I grab her hand and shrug the bag on my shoulder. As if she understood, she stands up next to me and we start running as fast as we can.
My heart pumps and I look back to see the old man dispearing from the window. He'll call the police, get us arrested for tagging and going on private propety. With a sudden pump of energy, I start to sprint faster with Matsya's hand in mine. She's wearing heels yet she's moving faster than me and tugging my hand along with her. With a smile, I try to catch up to her.
□
I swear my chapters are becoming so long. How was the chapter? Was it expected? Any feedback?
Honestly, the upcoming chapter and the last chapter have been so fun to write. They're pretty essential to the plot.
My mind feels mindblown after talking to my three family members (my Amma who's like seventeen, my sister Ameera *insert winks* and my daughter Pogo) for six + hours on video chat omg even though I was v v shady because I kept disappearing. Ten out ten recommend you make sure your friend's time zones so they go to sleep like good beans should.
How was your day?
I'm also kind of annoyed since I realized someone copied my idea of having diversity in my book instead of a full desi cast. They also passed it off as original and unique while I sat here like yeah totally. I'll probably just ignore it tbh. Like she could have at least acknowledged her idea isn't unique instead of pretending to be a special snowflake. Oh well.
Vote?
- Maya