16

5 0 0
                                    

They do not know for how long they remain such but none pull away. His arms are still around her as she guides them to the next painting. The white sheet is pulled off to reveal something that halts his world.

A girl with wings on the ground, her head bowed while a dagger rests against her wings, held by a hand from the shadows. Another hand is wrapped around her waist, a hand adorned in silver rings and a bracelet. The figure is a shadow but its lurking presence is sinister enough. But he does not see all of that. He does not see a girl but a boy, a young boy who had been brought to a family that he hadn't known existed till then, with wings on his back and gleam in his eyes, till the dagger pierced through his wings and shame and agony dulled the gleam. He sees a small boy whose waist has been gripped by strong hands with a golden ring with a grip so tight that he can feel the indentation on his skin even now. He sees a boy who tried his damnest to escape but was held down till he gave up and endured for years till the shadow's interest waned.

He stiffens in her arms the moment he sees the painting. She can feel it when his breaths quicken, when something unlocks within him. Tremors wreck down his body but he does not take his gaze away from the painting. She gasps as muted horror fills his eyes, slowly unravelling from the abyss and she realizes just why. She holds him tighter, her broken heart splintering all over again. The thought that somebody could do that to a child is appalling. She hadn't been in a sane state when she had painted these paintings. These were the warped expressions of her grief and rage. She does not even remember why she had painted this because it hadn't been a personal experience. That year after her escape protected her sanity only till she found this dwelling and settled here. It deserted her, leaving her to the grasp of marginal insanity because that was the only thing that could handle her grief.

"Armaan" she calls out, her voice choked and buried. He turns to look at her but there is a disorientation in his gaze. He is looking at her but he is not seeing her because the painting is still etched in his eyes. Deciding it was best to lead him away, she manages to drag his unmoving form outside the room. She then leads him to the hall and makes him sit on the sofa. She brings him a glass of water then and helps him drink it. It is then that the state he is in finally breaks.

"I--" he breaks off, choking a sob in his throat. She holds his hands and looks at him, slowly whispering his words back to him with all the understanding and compassion in her eyes.

"Let go Armaan! It's okay. I'm here. I will hold you through it. Let it go"

And he does. He lets himself sob and cry and scream and let all that had been buried deep in the abyss within him resurface and get a voice. Amidst them, she guides his head to her shoulder and he clings onto her with all his might as he sobs. She doesn't say a word, doesn't quieten him, just lets him let it all out through his tears. 

_

"I did not want it. I-I tried to escape, I tried to fight. I tried Abhira, so hard but all it did was put me down even harder. "

"It--it hurt so bad. I couldn't take it, couldn't meet my own eyes. He broke me and I couldn't do anything to stop it"

In broken sentences amidst his sobs, he tells his story to her. It is not pretty and she wishes she could have ripped that monster away before it hurt him like this. But she cannot and so she does what she can in the present moment - she holds him close and tells him that it is okay, that he is not to blame, that he is not defiled but that monster is who deemed it to do this to an innocent child. She holds him close and tells him words, of love and assurance that soothe the boy within that had endured so much without a person there, in the darkness, to tell him do not be afraid, it will be okay. She holds him close without faltering despite the revelation of his disease. 

And as he clings to her, he realizes that the wish to be loved and accepted he had been pushing away has been granted!

_

It is pouring heavily outside by the time they find some semblance of normalcy and stability in their emotions. They light a fire in her fireplace and sit by it, just talking to each other. They bare their souls, allowing the vulnerabilities to come to light. It is an emotionally exhaustive conversation and they cry and hold each other through it, but it makes them feel lighter than ever before.

One night, one day is not enough. Telling each other their stories has not closed the wounds or healed them instantly but it has commenced a journey towards it. They have each other now and together they will heal. Together, they will be okay. What started as a spark of connection has now deepened into threads entwining into knots for a lifetime. And they will stay like she has always wanted, like he has always needed but been afraid to ask or hope or wish.

They will be okay now because at the edge of the night lies dawn. And they have called for each other since years only for them to be answered now. They will be okay now because the darkness has passed. Embracing light will not be easy and it will not be without challenges but they will be better because they will be towards healing, towards love and alongside each other, alongside their true companions.

Because at the edge of the night lies dawn and they have found their sun. 

_

WC: 1044 words

Love,
Pratyusha


Edge Of The Night | ONC2024 ✓Where stories live. Discover now