The vicious cycle- Unbroken

{6} Homeward.

Aisha's POV-

Hope's going home! She'll be leaving tomorrow morning. I'm so happy for her; she's been doing so well since... then. I keep a constant eye on her. I know she hates it, but I love her too much to let anything bad happen to her again. She's been a really good friend and I can't stop kicking myself over and over again for being so blind to her needs. Hope is my best friend, and that means being there for each other in highs and lows. 

But back to her little holiday. She's been so excited, her face has visibly lit up. It's so wholesome, how much she loves her family in Toronto. I've realised that she covers up her arms a lot, and I don't blame her. I'd want to cover them up, too. Her and I have started to speak regularly again, even if it is just a good morning over text... I'm starting to feel like... like everything will be 'normal' again. Whatever 'normal' was.

Hope's POV-

I. Am. So. Excited! My mum hasn't been feeling her best lately, and going back to visit her kindles a warm fire in my heart. I lay my head on the bus window, looking out as the city whizzes past. My flight to  Toronto won't take long, only an hour and ten minutes. I still wanted to take the plane, though. It's become a weird ritual for me to come and go by air, and no one seems to be able to explain why. I guess some things just feel right. The same way some things feel wrong. The bus jolts to a halt and I begin to gather my luggage. A caramel-brown leather suitcase, half of my height, and a brown satchel bag with a kindle , some paperback books and plastic bags in case of air sickness. Ayesha's been texting me for the past half an hour to ask if I've gotten to the airport yet. I skip off the bus and text her back: "Yeah, just did. I'll text you when I reach. :)" The airport is so large and modern. The walls feel like they've been lined with pure silver, and the floor with moon dust. The sun outside reflects off everyone's little metal objects, creating a cascade of rainbows across the ceiling. It makes me want to both cower in insignificance and march with pride at the same time. I choose the latter. In hindsight; I must look very stupid, but none of that is stopping me. I'm ready to put everything behind me, bury my scars, and move on. 

Security checks fly by surprisingly fast. I'm almost certain they took longer last time. I glace at my watch; 3:55pm. My flight is in 20 minutes. I'm sitting in what I like to call 'the waiting room.' My entire body is twitching. 20 minutes is a notably long time. I distract myself with my book: 'One of us is lying.'  As I begin to dive inside the story, my attention is caught by my flight number being called for the last boarding call. I slap my forehead so hard it begins to hurt. How was I so stupid?!  I scold myself internally as I rush to pack things up and get on the plane. To my surprise, nobody is mad, or seems mad. I remind myself that nobody would be mad if I took my time on this trip. I plummet on to my seat and sigh deeply. One more hour.

                                                                    -One more hour later-

"Ma'am... Ma'am, you'll need to get off now, we're arrived at Toronto," a sweet voice beckons me awake. "Oh! Oh my god, I am so sorry, thank you-" I stumble over my words. I didn't realise when I had gotten to sleep, but I must have been in a deep sleep, because the plane was now empty and flight attendants were cleaning up. I nod to the sweet flight attendant as I scurry off, imagining her rolling her eyes in annoyance as I do. I blink a few times as my eyes adjust to the harsh lighting in the airport. The sun is already setting outside, painting soft pastels across the sky. I flick away a tear as my eyes catch the sight of my family inaudibly waving to me from outside.

Home.

HEY. I'm back! Did you miss me? Probably not. 

Anyway, I'm back to writing again. I love writing and I hope you can see how I've evolved over this past year. Hope you enjoy. Have a good one! <3

Sincerely,

🍪