Chapter 1

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I've got a bad case of the 3:00 am guilts - you know, when you lie in bed awake and replay all those things you didn't do right? Because, as we all know, nothing solves insomnia like a nice warm glass of regret, depression and self loathing.

The hardest thing about depression is that it is addictive. It begins to feel uncomfortable not to be depressed. You feel guilty for feeling happy. Sometimes I just want to paint the words "It's my fault" across my forehead to save him the time of being pissed off at me.

A part of me was hoping someone would wake up and hear, so I wouldn't have to live with this guilt anymore. But no one woke up and in the silence that followed, I understood the nature of my new curse: I was going to get away with it.

I went to the window seat and sat there, sniffling, hating them all, and myself most of all. It was all my fault, everything bad that had happened. A selfish person can still love someone else, can't they? Even when they've hurt them and let them down.

But I have my life, I’m living it. It’s twisted, exhausting, uncertain, and full of guilt, but nonetheless, there’s something there.

I think I can learn to live with guilt. I don't care about being good.

This is what I say every morning after praying fajar.

I looked back at the clock and it was time to wake up Shezan for his school.  He was now twelve years old but had become very matured for his age.

"Assalamualaikum" I greeted him as I remove the curtains from the window so that the sunlight can easily penetrate into my lil boy's room and fill his room and his life with all the warmth.

"Walekumasalam" he replied rubbing his eyes, like he does daily.

"How are you my boy?" I asked ruffling his hair, Like I do daily.

"I'm good, Momma. How are you?" He asked smiling.

"I'm also good" I said kissing his forehead. "Now com'on hurry up or else you're gonna be late for school" I said standing up.

"Momma, you know na I love you?" He said smiling.

"Yes, and Momma loves you too" I said smiling.

"And Daddy?" He asked.

"Daddy, too..." I said. "Now hurry up, I'm waiting for you downstairs." I said and he nodded while running towards the washroom.

In the meantime, I went down and Maria was already there in the kitchen.

"Breakfast's ready, Mam" she said.

"It's been two years and till now you keep on calling me as Mam" I said folding my hands.

"Because your are our boss" Nafisa said coming into the kitchen.

"Not you too, Nafisa" I groaned and they both laughed.

"So where's Shezan?" Nafisa asked.

"He must be on his last step" I said and yup he was down. I smiled.

"Sometimes, I wonder that how come you got to know Shezan so well" Nafisa said.

"All because of Mahira" I said, remembering her. It's been a week since I had a talk with her.

"She's a gem!! Arhaan is so lucky to have her." Nafisa said.

"Yes, he is." The harsh memories of my past didn't wasted a second also in flashing against my eyes making me flinch internally.

"Mommyyyy"

"Coming..." I replied.

"Everything's long forgotten. Cheer up Laiba." Nafisa said patting my back.

"In that everything, I lost my forever!!" I said and tears escaped my eyes.

"Don't worry, he'll eventually get along!! But you know na, he has forgiven you"

"He has forgiven me because of Mahira, Arhaan told him to. In reality he still hasn't!! You haven't seen the hate in his eyes when he looks at me." I said.

"Everything's will be fine soon, Laiba" she said and I just nodded.

I went out with Shezan's favourite breakfast. Note the sarcasam

"Why milk???" He whined.

"No time for whining, drink the milk fast." I said.

After he finished drinking, he went to school.

Now it was time to face him.

After taking lots of deep breaths, I went up to his room.

Eyelids closed against the dim light of dawn and his breathing deep and relaxed, all the muscles in his face and body were totally at peace, like a baby in its' first throes of slumber and before REM kicked in. Not a twitch, not a spasm, barely any movement of his chest rising and falling with each intake of air such was the depth of his oblivion. This was a body totally at peace, at rest, at one with itself, rejuvenating the mind and muscles before the onset of yet another day of turmoil.' 

The innocence showed on the sleeping face, the peaceful and serene dreams blocking out the dangers of the outside. The soft breathing making the world seem to stand still.

His eyes were grey but not the kind of shade that's easy to describe. He blinked and the beauty was momentarily covered by the shield of his eyelashes; naturally long and soft looking - feminine compared to the rest of his well structured features. By the time the his eyes opened again, I had still not recovered from his intense stare.

It was a stare that communicated his former pain, and my wish for him to let go and to move on. But he could not move on, just as I could not forget those glaring eyes whose light never faded even in death.

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