Yours insanely

40.The Devil's in the details

You remember stumbling up to your feet, knocking at your neighbor's door hurriedly after that.

They had called an ambulance but all was done before it could reach your house.

It was an accident.

The fish tank fell down by mistake, your mother slipped on the water, fell into the glass pieces on the floor, and one of the many stabbed her in the neck.

Such obvious evidence. Why delay?

It was a fatal accident. The case was closed.

Within a day, the police cleared the crime scene.

You don't remember crying when you cremated her on the pyre later in the evening.

Who were you staying for?

Your mother was not the most affectionate. Your uncle wasn't the greatest. Friends hadn't been the friendliest.

All your life, it had been ticking to this point.

But you knew it wasn't an accident. It could've been.

You pushed your mother, then she fell. You did it with intentions.

And you knew your uncle did too.

He'd have known by then. By the time his flight lands in Singapore, he'll know about what happened.

It'd take him at least until the next morning to come back. You had one chance.

So you ran.

The same evening, packing what little of your things was in that house before your uncle found you, you left.

You ran all the way across the country. You hitched rides, starved for days, slept on the streets.

Until you reached a place where you were sure that your uncle would never find you.

You found two jobs. You found your first home.

Because the place you lived in with your mother and your uncle was just a house. Four walls and a roof do not make a home.

Similar to you, the landlord of the home with the bougainvillea had left an unhappy family and traveled as far as she could, as far away from her previous home as possible.

You didn't mind her condition that the bougainvillea should be left as it is. Even the front gate could be barely seen. You liked it. You like being hidden.

Because all your life, you never felt like you really lived.

You liked knowing what would happen next in your day.

Ever since you were out on your own, weekdays were spent working two part time jobs. Weekends were spent at home.

You didn't earn much, but you were content with it. You were comfortable. And so was this life.

Nothing could get in the way of your routine as you walk through the bougainvillea. Nothing could get in the way of your peace. Not anymore.

You'd planned on doing the same for the rest of your life; no bustling or expectations. Just you and your perfectly planned day.

You had been hiding for six months when Shubman saw you.

-

The moment you stepped out of the door, you were greeted by the scene of a parent raising their voice at the seemingly five year old.

Another great way to go on with your day.

You flinched a bit, looking away from their table as you faintly heard someone else who came along with them.