The Unexpected Vow

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟑𝟏

Author's POV

“Aryan. Get up. It's time to take your medicine”

A familiar voice whispers into Aryan's ear, a voice he is accustomed to hearing daily with the same phrases. His uncle, the only person who seems to remember that a child also resides in this house who deserves care and comfort. He is also the one who took Aryan to the hospital that night after his serious shoulder injury.

“I don't want to, Fufa” Aryan murmurs, his voice barely audible, yet his uncle somehow comprehends it. After all, he has been getting the same response every single day for the past month. “Aryan, remember the doctor said you need to take medicines regularly. You need to heal, dear.”

“Come on, take your medicine,” his uncle urges once again.

After much coaxing, he finally manages to get Aryan to swallow the pills, just as he does every day.

As Aryan's uncle steps out of the room, silence envelops the space once again. Aryan has only ever seen his uncle when it’s time for his medication or, on rare occasions, when he brings him a meal. Aside from that, he rarely sees uncle. And he doesn’t complain about it either.

He remains seated on his bed, shrouded in the stillness and darkness of his room.

It has been one month since his mother left him.

One month since tears have become a constant companion.

One month since he has forgotten how to smile.

One month since he has forgotten how to sleep.

Nothing feels the same anymore. Nothing brings him joy, excitement, or even sadness. It’s as if he is gradually losing his emotions, becoming hollow inside. Yet, beneath this emptiness, there exists a part of him that still clutches to pain, raw and unrelenting, like a fresh injury—burning and throbbing, as if it desperately wants to scream.

Following a lingering silence, he finally gets up from his bed and walks towards the door. Through the half-open door, he catches a glimpse of his aunt and a few relatives gathered around his father, all busy offering their comfort. His father sits there, silent and stoic, devoid of any visible emotion, but Aryan can see the pain etched deeply within him…..just like his own.

He wants to go to his father and comfort him, yet he finds himself utterly devoid of words. He grapples with the inability to comfort his father when he himself can’t calm the pain within. He knows that if he allows himself to break down in front of his father, it will only deepen the sorrow that weighs heavily on his father's heart. Just like that day when he returned from the hospital, enveloped his father in a tight embrace, and succumbed to tears, inadvertently pulling his father into an even deeper sorrow.

He settles back onto his bed, his eyes fixed on the clock's steady ticking. Each second melts into a minute, the minutes stretching into hours, the hours turning into days, days flowing into months. Gradually, the house empties as people depart, drifting back to their own lives, leaving father and son alone in the house.

His dad resumes his office routine. He, too, returns to school, though the weight of grief lingers. Nevertheless, such is life. Despite the challenges, you must navigate back to the familiar path.

The days keep passing, and each day Aryan finds himself holding onto the hope that his relationship with his father will return to what it used to be. Perhaps they can reconnect like they used to, but things remain unchanged, just as before.