Someday it happens, when I realize that I'm cramming with some unknown thoughts, some lonely feelings which I can't elaborate properly swamp me. I have nobody to talk to. It makes no difference even if I try to remember my happy times, the time when I was really happy.
I got used to be deadly alive. I mean no one would be able to get that I was living in my room from the outside. Children are supposed to be packed with outburst of merriment. I was oddly different. The out-turn was my parents stopped considering me a meaningful asset of their life and arguments on even the tiniest thing was quite conventional and everyone yelling at the top of their voices was expected by the neighbors dwelling beside us.
None of my parents ever did messaged me how I have been doing. How I was surviving amidst of the ocean of complete strangers.
I had to escape this. Maybe I wanted to change, maybe. Anyways, I grew accustomed to this.
I was copying down notes sitting at the furthest corner of the caffe and didn't bother as a few teardrops trickled down my cheeks.
Exclamation of few lads caught my attention and he entered the awning and caught a glimpse of me. He murmured something to his friends and stepped forward to me showing a faint smile.
I let out all the rigidity I've been holding all along as he wiped my tears with his hands.
That day, I called my mum saying that I missed the times when we used to go to the playground and we weren't faking cheeriness at all.
Though she said nothing, I guess some thorns covering the upperside of our barrier were uprooted.
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