Beautiful Words

Special 1

A | N :
Why don't we look back to our childhood days... and ask ourselves now, "do I really want to reverse time and see myself in those small flappy shoes and iconic bear pyjamas hugging a worn-out teddy and cries until my nose turning into a red alarm just because mom refuses to give me my usual, little treat?"

And it's a little shocking(not really), because I do. Want that so eagerly.

[ Anyway! This chapter shall dive into certain characters' childhood memories, let's find out more about them! ] - will be using povs!
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ᥫ᭡
"When was it
The very first time
That I decided to use this weapon;
A pen, a paper, and my mind-
And start drowning in my own sea of thinking?"

· Ameena Khaysara ·

One normal evening it started raining like a playful shower and the sky dimmed into clean grey. From outside, the windows were fogged, and those small beautiful vases holding newly sprouted plants made faint echoes of clattering, and people were rushing to take shelter nearby.

I was too captivated by only watching things unfold- I pressed my face to the window glass, my nose felt cold and squished red, each breath I draw created a brief mist.

My curious little eyes followed a group of kids running away drenched from the shower, they stepped into puddles and their shoes and clothes got dirty but non of them seems to care.

"I love rains..." those words danced on my tongue, and I hugged a bunny plush close to my side.

"Really?"

I noticed a new shuffle of movement on the couch I was sitting on, and I tilted my head looking over to the new presence beside me.

There she was, a young girl in a brown-pleated dress, pulling her hair up in a loose gun and she blinked her sad-looking eyes at me. Whenever one asked about her eyes, she claimed that she was fated to be born with them- sad-looking, looking as if she was about to cry, too droopy, too sloppy, too faraway and lightless pair of brown eyes- not that they indicate her true feelings anyway.

"Warda..." I softly muttered her name, scooting a little closer to her when she gestured to an empty space next to her.

"Why do you love rains, Meena?" Warda asked.

I fidgeted first, thinking of my reply, "I love rains because... I love to see people playing with puddles! Like- just now, they look like having so much fun! And- and rains have a good smell!"

Warda seemed to be taken aback by my last sentence and she bursted out laughing, "G- good smell? Where did you get that idea?" Her cheeks beamed red, almost too delighted because of me.

I puffed up my already flushed cheek. Embarrassed, I reached for her shoulder to shake her telling her to stop, "It's true though! Why are you laughing? What- what's so funny..."

And then Warda stopped laughing, her face turned a bit serious as she said to the window, peering out, "Well, I hate them. Rains. They make noises, and I hate it when it's too noisy."

"But... why?" I was told that not everyone can take your favourites as theirs, but her words somehow affected me.

My cheeks flushed and I stared back at the grey sky, exhaling in awe. From the corner of my eye, I knew she was looking my way, and she reached up to pinch my cheek.