ALISHA’S POV
One word to describe the past few days- Crazy. Award after award, party after party- Pre-parties, after-parties. And I attended them all. Why? I needed an escape. Only Salman knew that I was dying inside. Don’t get me wrong, I was beyond happy for him, for all the success. But just the thought of the murderers, the girls sent chills down my spine.
I didn’t want to deal with it. I admit it. I was being a coward and finding escapes and excuses. I was trying to trick myself into forgiving everything. Every night, it’d wake up from a nightmare, and act like everything was normal. Salman would always crawl into my bed and calm me down. We were the only ones who knew what I was dealing with. And he was worried.
It was one of those nights. I had a nightmare about all the things messed up together and was now in the living room. Salman was out at a friend’s place, I had to push him to go. He was reluctant to leave me alone, but he needed some fun time. I honestly felt guilty for ruining his perfect day, every night.
I was scribbling in the diary. I stopped and asked myself.
What was I doing? I was running away from everything. From all my problems, all the challenges. So what if my life was messed up? So what if I didn’t have the privilege to lead a normal life? I couldn’t and shouldn’t use it as an excuse to avoid everything. I couldn’t throw my life away.
I wasn’t a quitter. I’d never accept my defeat before fighting back. I was gonna face everything and everyone, and not back down.
I sighed and pushed by diary aside. Where did that come from?
‘*text*
(Liz text) Hey, can I talk to you?
(Salman text) Want me to come back??
(Liz text) No no…stay there. Nevermind. We’ll talk when you come back. No problems. J
(Salman text) Uh, ok. Why are you still up?
(Liz text) Nightmare… L
(Salman text) Yea, I’m coming back. Back in 30.
(Liz text) You don’t need to!
(Salman text) Chill, we were almost done. Bye now gotta drive.
(Liz text) Drive safe.
He said thirty minutes right? He was back in fifteen. I was eating chocolate ice cream then.
“Ice cream. At night. Something important, huh?” Salman said, taking his jacket off.
“Can’t a girl eat ice cream just for the heck of eating ice cream?” I replied, keeping the bowl in the dish washer.
“Normal girls can. But I know you. What’s bothering you?” He patted the couch where he was sitting. I went over and snuggled close to him. He instantly wrapped his hands around me. We sat there for a while, in comfortable silence. I absorbed his aura. The love, the protectiveness, the understanding-ness. Yup, that’s not a word I know. I can invent words, k?
“I’m done escaping life.” I whispered, while he was playing with my hair. I didn’t let anyone but him touch my hair. I wouldn’t hesitate to slap or punch anybody else who messes with my hair. Yes, I was extremely protective of them.
“You were never escaping life.”
“Yes I was.” I defended myself. What was the point in refusing the truth?
“You were on a much needed vacation. Life has been pretty umm, eventful. Everyone deserves some break. That is what you were doing.” Eventful. So he has turned into the politically correct dude too? Then I’m the black sheep of the family I guess.
“So, you don’t think I’m being a coward?” As soon these words escaped my lips, he shifted his position so he could look me in the eyes.
“You are everything but a coward. Get me?” He furrowed his brows.
“You’re saying this to make me feel better.” I murmured looking away. I was on the verge of tears, and I couldn’t let him see that.
“No, I’m saying this because it’s the truth.”
Should I believe him? I mean he was my brother. It was in the job description to be sweet and caring and stuff. He might as well say so to console me. I was being cowardly. I refused to go to school; I refused to talk to the police anymore. I didn’t train for over a week. I refused to even acknowledge that night. I tried hard to block everything out. To erase the memories. Or atleast lock them up in an unreachable, dark and secluded corner of my mind.
“I know you don’t believe me.” Salman sighed. It always amazes me about how well he knows me. He always seems to know what I think about, how I react. Everything.
“Are you a mind reader?” I asked him. He chuckled and was back to serious.
“Let’s go.” He got up, and I knew instantly where we were gonna go.
We pulled infront of my gym, and I hopped down. This place was deserted. We both walked down in silence, with his arm around my shoulder.
How can people not know about it? I asked myself. This place was definitely better at night. A narrow beach, with soft white sand and calm waves. The humid breeze hit my face and I smiled. We had so many memories here. Numerable times I and Salman have walked down the beach at night. Good times, not so good times. This was the place I’d go to when I hit ups and downs.
We sat on the sand, and I kept looking at the waves. I’ve come here hundreds of times, but the beauty still got me awestruck. The dark waves splashed against the shore as the moonlight gifted its glow.
“So?” Salman asked, and I lifted my gaze from the vast ocean and towards him.
“What so?”
“Yea, guess I have to start. Ok. One, you are not a coward. I’m not saying this because I want to see you smile, which I do, but because the way you handled every situation so far is praise worthy. You fought everything head on. And I’m so proud of you for that.”
“But I didn’t…” I started off.
“Uh-huh. Let me complete.” He lifted his palm, and continued, “Two, its fine to ask for help once in a while. I can tell you are a wreck inside. No matter how much you smile and laugh, I know. Others may not be able to see through, but I can. I see how the nightmares scare you. I can see how you cry alone. Yes, I know.”
How did he know? I am positive that nobody was around during my break down mode. I was alone, in the backyard. How did he know? Did he have some kind of psychic powers now?
“Three,” he said after a pause, “You need to start your life again. You haven’t spoken to your friends in days. Stop building walls around you. It will ultimately isolate and kill you.”
That was true. I hadn’t spoken to them in days. That wasn’t normal on my part. I could speak with them for hours in one stretch. And it’d still seem less. This was not me, something was wrong. Terribly wrong.
“I’m scared.” I spoke quietly, not making any eye contact.
“Of?” He asked in his ‘I’m-your-brother-and-I-love-you-so-you-can-tell-me’ voice. I knew that well, he didn’t need to tell me. He was one person I could tell everything without fearing about being betrayed or judged.
Uh, except boys. But the fact that he loved me stopped me from telling him stuff, too. I’d always think about how it’d hurt my brother. Not only him, but also the other two too. The only three people on Earth that I’d trust with everything. Again, except boys.
He waited, patiently. I was sure if it’d been Sohail he would have shook the answer out of me. But Salman waited. And waited. He had faith in me, that I’d never hide anything from him. That I’d trust him enough. And I couldn’t get myself to betray his faith. Damn it, it was blackmailing me from one point of view.
“Of everything. Those people, my past. My friends. You, family. All the rumors, gossip, assumptions. Of people. Of life. I can’t do it!” I wiped away tears jabbering everything that came to my mind.
He sighed and pulled me even closer than we already were. His fingers intertwined into mine, and held on firmly.
“You should not be afraid of anything. At all. Those people won’t harm you, I give you my word. And your past is gone. There is no point in beating yourself after it. You and I both know that rumors come and go. It’s not wise to care about what other people think. It’s not worth it.”
“But I care. I’m not immune to them like you are! I care about what people think about me. How…how do you do it? Not giving a damn. How?”
I really wanted to learn that. I needed to do that because all the paparazzi were driving me insane. I needed to be like him because at this rate I’d surely turn into an obnoxious, rebellious teen. I didn’t want that for my life. I didn’t want to be just another rich-spoilt-brat. I didn’t want to be the rehab girl. I didn’t want to be THAT girl. The one everyone hates.
“It just happens I guess. It did bother me initially. Even now, I do lose it sometimes. It will get better with time. I can promise you that.” He squeezed my hands as a few more silent tears escaped my eyes.
I wish that was true. I tried so hard to be like him. To carry on with life no matter what the media talked about us. He was a pro. But I couldn’t. I cared about what people thought. It felt bad when others believed and talked about me like crap. It hurt deep inside, even if most people never knew about it. Did they never consider the fact that I might as well have feelings, have emotions?
“What about family and friends...” he asked slowly, interrupting my internal rambling.
“I-I it just slipped.” I tried to get away. I was praying he forgot about that lil part. Too bad he didn’t. That probably hurt him the most, so he saved it for the last. Typical brother behavior.
“You are a horrible liar, you know?”
“You won’t let go, will you?” I raised a brow. Once he wanted something, he got it. There was no other way round, no alternative, and no compromise.
“You know me so well.” He smirked.
“It was just…I thought what if everyone I know doesn’t care anymore. What if they forget me? What if they don’t want me to be in their lives anymore?”
“Why would you think so?” He was hurt. His face was paler, and he was concerned. Great, I managed to worry him more. And hurt him. Such a wonderful sister I am, the world will be proud.
“My parents- biological ones- left me, didn’t they? Didn’t even put me up for adoption. They just straight away abandoned me.” I spat. I hated them, detested them. If possible, every single cell in my body would scream and yell ‘I hate my birth parents.’
“We don’t know. Maybe it wasn’t their fault…” He tried to make me think about it from every angle. I didn’t want to! I didn’t care about the reasons. They did throw me away like thrash. My own parents. I was nothing to them, absolutely nothing.
“I don’t care! If they wanted me, they would have made some effort to get me back. You, everyone tried so hard to find them but did we? They don’t want me!” I was crying hysterically now, thinking about my parents. I was nothing but burden to them. Unwanted piece of crap. Nobody will ever know how it is to feel unwanted, by the people who are suppose to love you the most.
“I honestly don’t know. Maybe they have their own problems. Maybe they tried, but failed?” He tried again. He would never judge anyone. I hated the fact now, and was loving it just seconds ago. Talk about mood swings.
“They are just possibilities.” I hissed.
“I hate to be so harsh right now, but you need to know this. Even your thoughts are POSSIBILITIES. We don’t know for sure.”
“And that is killing me! I don’t know anything.” I yelled out of the blue, and his eyes widened. He was shocked at my outburst, and so was I.
“You know a few things. I will never forget or leave you. Nor will your two brothers and your sis-in-law. And even the baby.” A hint of smile crept on my face only for a moment when he spoke about the baby. And it vanished as quickly as it appeared.
“If my parents can then…”
“If, and I say if, they left you, then they are the biggest fools on the planet. They are the ones losing out. I will not trade you for ANYTHING in the world.”
By this time, even he was in tears. He meant each and every word he said. I could see it all over his face. He loved me, always has, always will. And me? I was accusing him of forgetting me one day? I hated myself right now. No wonder my parents left me. I was a horrible person. Anyone would give me away. I was a curse to have, right? I got up and ran.
“Please stop!” Salman begged, getting up. I couldn’t. I was ashamed more than I ever was in my entire life of more than a decade. How could I doubt my family and friends? The people I’d never trade for all the wealth in the world. The people who accepted me, and kept me off the cliff. The people who I called my own.
“Shhsshhh…” He cooed and held me tight. He finally caught up with me. I hugged him, and the fabric of his shirt soaked my tears. He rubbed my back, and we stood there for minutes. It felt good to be held like that. Because then I knew that nothing could harm me, because he was always there for me. I was safe and secure.
I felt tears landing on my shoulder, and realized he was crying too.
“You are crying?” I asked shakily.
“Yes. And I’m not embarrassed to admit it.”
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