08- Escaping from the doomed place.

1.7K 131 68
                                    

I EXTENDED THE CHAPTER FROM THE LAST!

***

WANT TO KNOW ME PERSONALLY?

IF YES! THEN, THE LINKS OF SOCIAL SITES ARE IN THE BIO!

FOLLOW ME ON INSTAGRAM by the name— theSophisticatedemotions

Enjoy! But do votes and comments. As it encourages me to write. ❤

___________________________________





08— Escaping from the doomed place.

 

“And sometimes we feel so deeply yet say nothing.”

—Saumya Tripathi 

Huddled up against the side of the bed with my brother asleep soundly, I hefted up a sign.

This short time literally felt like the longest hour of my life. Waiting for fifteen minutes perhaps but it felt as if hours had gone by yet the fifteen minutes had not arrived. I mused to myself, woefully.

I was optimistic as well as agitated and scared out of my wits and above all, I somewhat felt—satisfied in the hope of returning home. My home. Where the remnant memories of my parents lingered in the air of my abode, however. Blinking from my trance, I stared ahead of me at the gigantic window where a gust of air was flowing making the curtains give a swaying twist. It seemed almost exquisite and tranquil. The room was muffled and the lights were off, it gave the lighting to peep into the room from outside the window where the curtains didn't cover up the windows. It must have felt so peaceful only if my insides were not churning in anxiety. I was scared, which was an understatement. 

My eyes dozed off and on gingerly and momentarily while staring at the dancing curtains of the windows and the peeping lights from outside it. It was somehow mesmerising and I was finding myself drawn into it. I never realised when I fell asleep.

***

Seventeen minutes later. . .

Never in my life, I had awaited this much; for anything, as I did now. And never in my entire life at seventeen years of age, I had felt this devastated, self-conscious, sleep-deprived and anxious and— lonely as much as the circumstances made me feel right at that movement.

Except for the day of our parent's funeral. The little voice at the back of my head mocked me. My eyes watered at the veracious truth. Blinking back the tears, I resolved that I'd not cry. 

It was not the time for crying for the past that had taken place so enigmatically. It was time for gathering up the courage and returning home, safely. I speculated, determined.

Although my implication was obvious regarding the circuitous turn of events, somewhere deep inside, the other part of me was still contemplating the happening events that were rather incredulous and unprecedented; at least— for me it was. I was confused but alerted at the same time sensing the coming danger that I'd be getting myself into, soon. However, I was tired as well as on the verge of shutting down as my eyes were swollen and sluggish because of the lack of sleep I had been getting since I came here, but escaping from this doomed place and returning to the safe confinement of my home was what kept my fatigue and slumber disoriented. And the mere thought of us returning home gave me enough hope and incisive support to hold on to my obvious slumber at bay.

DIFFERENT SHADES OF HIM (BOOK-ONE)Where stories live. Discover now