When you smile

Chapter 50

Dev's P.O.V.

I wake up the next morning, still lying on the cold, unforgiving floor of my room. A heavy weariness envelops me, my body aching from the emotional tempest that had consumed me the previous night. Sunlight filters through the partially closed curtains, casting delicate, silvery patterns on the floor.

My gaze drifts downward, landing on my forearm. My heart skips a beat as I notice the scar that now adorns it. It's a stark reminder of last night's desperate moment, a moment when I felt so overwhelmed by my emotions that I resorted to self-harm.

Panic surges through me as the memories of the previous night flood back. What if my mom notices the scar? She's always been so perceptive, so attuned to even the slightest changes in my demeanor. The thought of her discovering my secret fills me with dread.

I quickly scramble to my feet, my mind racing as I search for a way to hide the evidence of my self-inflicted pain. I find a long-sleeved shirt and hastily pull it on, covering the scar. But as I do, a sense of shame washes over me. I never thought I would sink to this level, resorting to self-harm as a way to cope with my inner demons.

I walk to the corner of my room and stand before the mirror, my own reflection a mystery to me. The dark circles under my eyes are like badges of exhaustion, marking the countless nights I've spent grappling with my inner demons. My face, once so familiar, now seems like a canvas of unspoken words and hidden turmoil.

"What have I become?" I whisper to the reflection, my voice barely audible in the quiet room. It's a question that haunts me, a question that makes me question the essence of my existence. Can I even recognize the person staring back at me?

The mirror offers no answers, only a stark portrayal of a face scarred by my internal battles. I trace the lines on my cheeks, the remnants of tears shed in solitude, and wonder if I'm truly living or if I'm just existing in a world that feels increasingly foreign.

The room seems to close in around me, the walls bearing witness to my uncertainty. I'm trapped in a never-ending cycle of self-doubt, unable to break free from the grip of my own thoughts. The reflection before me is a fractured version of myself, a puzzle missing crucial pieces.

As I continue to scrutinize my reflection, I yearn for a glimpse of the Dev I used to be-the one who could smile without reservation and dream without fear. But that Dev feels like a distant memory, a fading echo in the depths of my mind.

The mirror, a merciless observer of my inner torment, provides no solace. It serves as a stark reminder of the battles I wage within myself, battles that have left me feeling like a stranger in my own skin. I ache for clarity, for a path out of the labyrinth of my mind, but the way forward remains obscured by doubt and uncertainty.

The door to my room swings open suddenly, and there stands my mom on the threshold. Our eyes meet, and in that unspoken connection, a rush of emotions surges between us. No words are necessary; she sees the turmoil in my eyes.

Tears brim in my eyes, and I can no longer contain the weight of my despair. The weight of my own thoughts, fears, and regrets crashes down on me, and I can't hold back the tears any longer. The dam breaks, and I begin to cry, the tears flowing freely down my cheeks. It's an emotional release, a flood of pent-up pain and confusion that I've carried for far too long.

I cry because I don't understand who I've become. The scars on my forearm are a painful reminder of my own self-destructive actions. I never imagined I would sink this low, that I would resort to hurting myself to cope with the turmoil inside.

I cry because I've pushed Raj away, the one person who has shown me unwavering love and acceptance. I'm afraid of hurting him, of exposing him to the darkness that haunts me. But in doing so, I've hurt myself even more, tearing a rift in my heart.