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-8-Mother’s food.

“Our inward Conflicts express themselves in our outward disasters. When we want nothing more than to keep them hidden.” [Jacqueline]

“Writer’s pov.”

“Rohan, I am sorry. It was my fault. I shouldn’t have lied to you.” Hearing her pleasant and sweet voice made Rohan’s heart skip a beat. His lips curved into smugness as he raised a question.

“But what is your real name sweet cheeks,? Do your cla**mates know about your hobby of lying to strangers?”

Fear hit Jacqueline like a cold shower. She was sure he would create trouble for her out of nothing.

“I. I believe you can forgive me, Rohan, so tell me what do I have to do to earn your forgiveness?”

Rohan grinned victoriously, his gorgeous, eyes shone with a gleam of mischief,

“Are you suggesting that you will do whatever I want?”

Her grip on her clothes tightened. She didn’t like his words. She was scared. His words felt like they had a different meaning.

Their conversation was cut short by Mrs. Smith’s yelling.

“What are you doing Rohan and Jacqueline. Come on take your seats. You are wasting our time.”

Muttering a small apology she returned to her seat while Rohan followed her.

In the whole period, she could feel Rohan’s stare making her tingle in nervousness. Several times he did try to talk to her but she ignored him making it look like she was immersed in studying. After the cla** came to an end, Mrs. Smith asked her to follow her to the staff room for helping her in the organization of the quiz. And for that she was grateful.

After that, the whole day went like a blur.

[Jacqueline’s Pov:]

it was nearly 3 pm when I arrived home. it made me anxious to think about how mom would be doing. Did they fight again? Would mom be injured? Will she identify me? or would I still need to be a neighbor in front of her?

My papa Joel Wilson is a government servant. A recovery officer. He was even given a few servants to help him in the job. Although I don’t know what made him bitter about mom. but there was something wrong with the way he treated her. or it might be because he was just a violent man. Anyway, in India, many men tended to hit women without a proper reason. He had been violent with her for as long as I could remember. I was one of those kids who at the age of seven wanted to die by seeing their parents fighting with each other almost every day. Yeah. I have been dealing with suicidal thoughts all my life. There were so many moments in my life when I had cried at the staircases of our home without letting anyone find me asking God to kill me. Trust me it’s a horrible feeling. I remember once when papa was running behind a mom with a wooden stick to beat her. At that time when I was six and, was playing a prank with my sister, When she leaped out from the stairs running and shouting with a hoarse voice and behind her, my father in the hallway door, shouting Boom! She screamed, face raked and twisted, then burst into sobs, Clutching her chest as she leaned against the door, gasping. while I stood there, confused, wearing my toy Army helmet tilted on my head. I didn’t know what exactly was happening, but I shut the door, locking it.

Yet I never told her I was scared at the time when my father’s fist collided with the door, or when he was shouting at us to open it. But seeing her as the bright sun etched her black hair. I shielded her face with My arms trying to protect her.

Though I never knew the future revisits the past. But for her, I no longer saw what was ahead of me.

I went back to the tap on our terrace, filling my water bottle for her to drink. I was shaking to my core hearing papa’s angry voice. But I never opened the door. Until he stopped shouting.

.

Subsequently, when we went out it was the second time he had slapped me. The first time he hit me, I must have been four. A hand, a flash, a reckoning. My mouth had felt a blaze of touch. I was hurt.

Shooking my negative thoughts away I entered the home.

There was an eerie silence engulfing the whole house. I shouted

“Nikki.”

“Nikki. where are you?”

“oh, you are here,” Mom responded to me smiling. Her smile dazzled me for a while.

“I. you. Mom.”

“Joel told me you will come.”

“Pa. oh I mean uncle. is he back?”

“Yes, dear he is back. Come here. I made some extra food today after so many days to thank you. I hope you will like it.”

“It wasn’t needed, Aunty.”

“Of course it was dear. you have helped me so much yesterday. so I wanted to do something for you too. Go and wash your hands first.”

Generally, I couldn’t understand her, She didn’t like cooking for as long as I could remember. There were so many incidents of papa and mom fighting just because she didn’t want to cook our food.

“Aunty, Did You made it yourself?”

“Yes, dear. I did. come and have some.”

“Okay.” Smiling I nodded at her and walked out to wash my hands.

When I returned Sunlight dappled the floor beside my mother, shining her pet**e figure as she was busy setting the table smiling and singing a tune I couldn’t recall.

The living room felt like a normal joyous place. Making me feel warm. A scene I wanted to live every day since childhood.

“Ah. Dear, you are here. have it before it gets cold.”

Seeing her smiling automatically made me smile. I guess it happens when you see your mom, smiling after seeing her cry almost every day.

“Come on Have it, Dear.”

“Oh. okay, Ma. I mean Aunty.”

“Great.” Clapping her hands she served me Whatever she had made. it was Chicken Biryani.

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India and particularly all over the world. Biryani is prepared

childish scrawl. I have written it to learn how to cook it. Though I did try to make it in the same way

20 minutes after school on a Monday. It’s a patient dish, a fragrant ginger-turmeric-cinnamon potpourri. Last year on the last Sunday of December I cooked it too

before it. You can also try it. Yet even after

perceived to have been made with love taste more delicious. Love makes everything

magical hands. I wonder how every single time she makes all Biryani with

“How’s it?”

It’s so

“Oh Thank you, dear.”

Filled with appreciation. But the next words that she

pack it for your

answer back but no words came out of my mouth. Trying to keep my emotions in I smiled at her. A fake

Chap-9-Mood Changer Text.

in it? Have you ever watched yourself from a different person’s view going deeper and deeper into the scene, away from you? I hope you can feel my pain by placing yourself in the scene where your mother asked you to pack some food for your Parents.

with her in the same way she had served me was the mere reason which made it tastier than it was. But her words had completely ruined my appet**e. Maybe because food may fade away but feelings

“Are you okay dear?”

“Yeah.”

didn’t

for asking, aunty, but my parents

me a necklace today? He said he bought it for my birthday.

in so much daze that I didn’t even notice the necklace she was wearing. it was

a fake and made of cheap gla**. She ran a thumb over its polished surface and smiled at me. almost grinning. I have never seen her smile so genuinely for months. Her black eyes shined in happiness. While her beautiful pink lips curved though the reason for the smile was a necklace. But to me her smile was the

Your smile

more profound than it already was. Her white face blushing a little and I found

such a

deserve it. You should see

you so much, Dear. Today

I was just telling you what’s true. You are truly

my forehead. instantly making me

my dear

hearing her words. ‘Did she remember me?’ I

like

was the part of my life where I was disappointed but I couldn’t do anything about it. I coughed a little to

“30 minutes later.”

to the heavy snores she made in her sleep. it was enough to calm me down. I don’t know how long I sat there but after a point, I went back to bed, pulled the covers

beeped and I moved to

my

quickly sit up in my bed realizing

…..

[Writer’s POV:]

up,” Jacqueline

answer. What happened to her.

“Nothing.”

“We are friends Jacky, You can tell

not want to tell him about her mother. it would do her no good. ‘what if he laughs

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he turned out to be my cla**mate in half

it couldn’t be the reason for her sadness, he understood even if he forced

You shouldn’t be scared. It’s not a

he. Not a big deal. it must be because he was never

confronted me in front of everyone in a small voice when the teacher asked

what was wrong with that. why are you getting angry at such a small reason?’ he couldn’t find an

is a he! huh! tell me from the start what

“I told you already.”

he was getting anxious

am asking you. How did it happen? Why did you lie to him in the first

he sat down on the one near me. after that he asked for my name. But I neither wanted to tell him my name nor I wanted

Chap-10-First Song.

people will always be judged as Rude or arrogant. You can either learn to ignore comments or become fake like the rest of

….

Writer’s POV:

a big deal to lie. Why was she getting

deal, Jacky. You are overthinking. he

would never have been bullied as to say such things. Again why did she even told him about

Her subconscious voice taunted

Remo sipped the juice he was having earlier. Disappointed at her behavior

“What’s wrong?”

noticing his answer, she decided it wasn’t the time to tell him about her bullying sad story since she didn’t want his pity and also they just become friends it wouldn’t be right of her to tell him about her issues so

you are right. I

While seeing him his friend’s

was his next-door buddy. They had been friends for as long as he could remember. They were even such great friends that he even let him use his phone to talk to various FB girlfriends like him. But He didn’t want

are you talking

said trying to usher him out

who is this friend?” he asked again, trying to

I will show you tomorrow. But For

even the time

know. But I want to sleep.” Just then his phone pinged making him aware he received the next text from her. he was

him and sworn in his heart to

you Don’t call

he shook his

“Baby.”

“Baby.”