Amidst A Thousand Suns

~enigma unfolded~

Anamika's P.O.V.

~~~

I am not sure why, but lately, I have been obsessed with dog pictures.

I installed Pinterest a couple of days back, and the first picture that showed itself in front of my face was of a fluffy dog.
That was just the starting. Now, my feed is literally filled with pictures of different types of breeds of dogs.

And right now, I was doing just that.
As I scrolled through the cute, little photographs of the creatures and saved them on my Pinterest board, I started worrying that I might start acting like those immature fourteen year-old girls that go all 'aww' and 'cho kyute' while playing with an animal and go nuts.

I sighed.
Maybe I am mad already.

I was so uneducated on this topic that I didn't even knew that different types of dogs are termed as 'breeds'.
What followed after was intense searching of every kind of breeds on this planet.
So, now, if someone asks me anything about dogs, I can answer them in a jiffy.
From their eating habits, to how their psychology works, I have excelled in each and every topic.
And for that, I have my google history on my laptop to prove my point.

Holy shit.
Maybe I am that fourteen year-old girl trapped in the body of a forty year-old woman.

Okay, I am officially mad.
I need some serious therapy.

I scrolled through some more pictures when I heard some thudding coming from the stairs.
It was Aaghyaa daily routine, and so I chose to ignore her.
Like I always did, to be very honest.

"What is this, Maa?"
The voice was as soft as velvet yet as breakening as someone who had just lost someone special.

I looked up from my laptop to face a heaving Aaghyaa whose face was covered with fat blotches of tears.
It looked as if she had cried until there were no tears to shed.

In her hand, she held a yellow bottle containing pills.
Not any other pills.
My pills.

She knows.
Oh my God.
She is just a child-
She-

I practically threw the laptop on the other side of the sofa, sprinted across the room and tried to snatched away the bottle from her hands, but she was quick enough to let them out of my reach.
I tried to hide it away behind me from her gaze that was now monitoring my each and every move.

"What was that?", she whispered.
I had never seen her voice break so much.

The look on her face is going to haunt me forever; or atleast until I lived.
Her eyes were red like blood from the crying; her face plain tired and crying out to stop whatever that she was going through, her hair all in a mess, as if she had pulled at them and ran her course hands through them to make sense of the bottle that she had found in my bathroom drawer.
Wait, how did she find it?

I couldn't find it in me to ask her the question, for I couldn't look away from her face.
I wanted to; God, I so wanted to wipe out that look of shattering of trust or whatever she felt for me.
But I just couldn't look away.
How can I?

I had caused her this.
It was all my fault.
Somehow, I am always at blame.
Because that's what I deserve; that's what I rightly deserve for hurting every people that I have ever cared about.
I am meant to feel like this.
To feel every negative emotion that has ever existed and spending every minute thinking that if was better off if I had taken those pills long ago.
That all of this mess would never have existed if I just ceased to live.