Live, Laugh & Heal (DISCONTINUED)

SKYFALL 4

"Go big or go home", zara scribbled on the small, yellow sticky note  and pasted it on her table perfectly with sellotape and smiled to herself, whispering, "Go big or go home, yes."

She arranged her pens into their places and sat down at the table. She opened her book, highly motivated, only to see her coffee not present on the table. She wailed like a little child and texted in the group chat for someone to get her a cup of coffee, in return for anything they asked for, as long as it was something she had the power and availability to give.

She plugged in the headphones

but did not turn up the music. no, this time, she did not. she plugged her headphones and locked herself in her room, lights turned down, trying her best to block out the screams and cusses flying out from the hall. another of their arguments, she thought sadly and sighed.

walking up to the table, she turned up the lamp and traced her finger along all the scars present on her left arm. so many, she could hardly make out how many there were in one spot. all that appeared were some pink-ish, new skin growing on a healing wound, surrounded by irregular spots that were darker than the rest of her skin. she sighed once again and banged her head on the table, once, twice, thrice, till the pain became numb.

taking out one of her textbooks, she tried reading the contents, only for all of them registering unprocessed in her brain. she was almost going to give up and waste another day, when she saw a small message on her table, given by zane before he left— you can do it.

and so, she turned up the music in her ears, took out her pen, and started studying.

grinding now is the only way i can escape forever, her mind whispered, as her pen flew along the ruled pages, filling up each line one by one, the desire to succeed, escape and live, overpowering her stress and sadness, little by little, minute by

minute. Take it one day at a time, okay?" Aza whispered in her ear, as Zara's shaking body calmed down slowly. He rubbed his hand along her back, comfortingly, when a group of children passed by them, pointing at the intimate position they were in. Zara did not notice them, her head buried in his shoulder, tears staining his shirt dark. Aza coughed lightly, and let go of her. He became stiff and spoke to her, his voice laced with tiredness, "I need to go now, Zara. I love you." He slid his hands from her shoulder, in a rather hesitant manner, and ran away to the bathroom.

He washed his face to erase any signs of burnout and checked if his mom's concealer still covered the dark bags under his eyes. Satisfied, he exited.

And there was Zara, slowly entering her class, as her eyes shifted and her brain formed theories on the sudden change in his behaviour. "Why did he leave me so suddenly? He never used to do that before. Am I being a burden to him? Oh heavens, I definitely need to die" she thought, her nails unconsciously reopening one of her recently healed wounds.

Aza sat at his assigned bench, rubbing his fingers through his hair, stressed in every possible way. He tugged at his hair and slapped himself hard. People stared at him for a second and continued with their own works. He sighed and drew careless lines on his sketchbook, his life a mess, his brain and mind repeating the same voice message he had ingrained in himself after being an unprofessional therapist to so many, and now, including Zara.

He reminisced about his past, and thought, his heart brimming with sadness, "Will I ever get to be a child?"

He took out his journal, one that he had been using since two years back and he flipped through the pages— the striking contrast in his life shocked him. Only two years ago, he was the child he longed to be now— dreaming about being the most successful person in the world, he had his entire life planned out. Aza gazed down at his palms, sighed, and put his head down, trying to note down the contents correctly as the teacher kept on dictating.