Find me

7.

I never left my room. And somewhere between noon and midnight, he had left. I was so scared to go out there. I kind of knew he was gone but it took me a lot of time to braven up and actually get out.

Just when my life was on the verge of getting closer to normal, everything broke apart. All courage and hope I had found went back into the closet of darkness yet again. It was like a slap in the face. Neymar. He proved to me that everything I thought I had accomplished was all a mirage. That the demon had found me again. That I couldn't get away. That I was forever trapped.

Without happiness.

Without hope.

That it was all an illusion. A stillness before the wreckage.

I felt drained. Drained of hope.

Tired of fake-believe.

So, I couldn't anymore.

I felt like my life that I had barely grabbed was slipping out of my fingers again. It took just a person and one night to break me and I had spent four months on myself, fixing away.

My insides felt like jelly.

I was sucked into my darkest depth and nothing seemed of substance.

I didn't go to work. I didn't eat. I didn't acknowledge anything.

3-4 days passed.

And I came to a point of desperation.

After wrecking my brain about it, I finally touched my phone and dialled the number I was dreading.

The phone rang and rang until my heart accelerated to its limit. I had not heard his voice in a long time. There was a ninety percent chance he wouldn't pick up seeing my name on it.

"Mira."

Nothing. I couldn't say anything.

"Mira?"

"Santi." My voice sounded weird. Even I had heard it after quite a long time.

"What's wrong?" "Where are you?" "Are you alright?"

I was surprised at the concern in my brother's voice because I wasn't expecting it.

I didn't know what to say. I didn't know why I called him in the first place. In a wanton moment I cut the call. After a few seconds, Santiago called back. And then again.

I decided to pick up on his third attempt.

"Hey mira, listen to me. I am sorry, okay? Don't hang up. Please."

"Santi, I-"

"Tell me where you are."

I didn't know whether to tell him or not. I did come to Barcelona to hide away from everybody. But I didn't wanna spend another moment here. But there was no way I was going back to Brighton.

"I can't come home."

"But Mira. This is your home. I promise noone will say anything to you. You have to come back."

Just then the doorbell rang and I flinched.

"I am not coming back." I said while walking upto my door.

"Alright. But atleast let me see you. Please. Tell me where you are."

I opened the door without giving it a thought.

And there stood the beast.

I froze in panic and cut the call with instinct.

I fumbled to shut the door but he put his arm on the door and I jumped back not wanting to touch him. And backed away with my heartbeat increasing steadily.

He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. I was a fraction of a second close to losing my sh*t. My tears were at the edges of my eye.

"GET OUT!" I said a little harshly.

"Just let me plead my case once." He mumbled.

There was something weird. His voice was cracking and his eyes were red. He looked genuinely vulnerable and that kind of lightened my fear. As if he'd been crying or something. Or he was high.

"I don't wanna see your face. Don't wanna hear your voice. Don't care whether you're dead or alive. Get the f*ck out."

His face seemed to change a shade of color.

"I am sorry." He barely uttered and then charged out of the door as if he couldn't stand another second of me.

***

The visit from Neymar had left me feeling utterly confused. Because there was just something about him that day that was odd. He wasn't himself. He looked like I had looked for the past few days.

Wrecked.

My phone had a thousand missed calls from my boss and colleagues. A week since the incident, I decided to give this job another chance. I honestly had no other option. Clearly, I didn't wanna go to England. And I needed this job.

I called Dr. Rodriguez and told her that I had been terribly sick. She was angry at me ofcourse but when I told her that I lived alone, she sympathised and told me to get back as soon as I could. I needed another day to mentally prepare myself.

***

"Oh my god. How are you now?" Maria asked me after I lied about my absence.

"Better."

"Tell me where you live. So, I could atleast check on you if you ever disappear again."

I gave her my address. And this was the exact conversation I had with a few others too.

Finally, it was time for me to do some physiotherapy. I was dreading finding Neymar in there. But as soon as I went into the medical block I found no signs of him which was weird but relieving. He was entitled to regular compulsory physio until atleast the mid of the season.

Instead I found Gerrard. Poor Gerri had slightly sprained his ankle during a game whilst my absence. After his brief session, I had to help him bandage his ankle and slip over his socks and shoes. That was my most nervous moment. Because I knew I would have to face him in the locker room . As we closed in towards the door, half of the team was coming out ready for training. My heart was jumping. But he didn't show up. I took a deep breath before going inside.

He wasn't there either.

I was slightly relieved yet confused. I helped Gerri get ready.

"Hey, where's Neymar?" I asked him eventually.

"Don't know. He didn't show up the past two days either. He might be sick or something because he isn't picking up anybody's calls."

*****

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