"Its beautiful A!" said P, looking around the place in amazement.
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"I know right", I said, with glee. I was very proud of this place, and I was really happy that P liked it too.
How did you find out about this? This place is like a gem.
Just a mere coincidence. Come here, look at this stream of water. Its so clear.
P walked near the stream and took a deep breathe. He likes the smell of wet mud. "This calls for a smoke. Here, take one." he said, handing me a pack of cigarettes.
I took one out of the packet and gave the rest to him. We both lit our cigarettes and sat down on a dry spot next to the water stream.
You know, I find it funny, how earlier I used to hate the smell of cigarette smoke but now, I smoke myself.
Oh my God, me too! I remember when my brother used to smoke, and I used to hate it. But then, when things started to get really bad at home, I not only started smoking but also drinking, doing drugs and all sorts of bad things.
What has become of us, A? What have we done to ourselves? It's sad.
It's not our fault P. We were young, and we didn't know if what we were doing was right or wrong. We just did stuff for the sake of it.
When did you start smoking?
I guess about five years back, just before my senior secondary board exams. Things had become really bad at home. My dad suspected that my mom was having an affair with a man living in the building across from ours.
Why did he think so?
My mom had suddenly become very secretive. She had started lying about where she goes out.She would lock her room to talk on the phone. If asked about who she was talking to, she would say it was her female friend, but you could clearly hear a man's voice on the other end. This went on for quite a while, until one day my dad lost his calm and..
And?
Ah, nothing. They just argued and called each other things. That's all.
P took my hand in his hands, turned a little towards my side so that he was facing me, looked me in the eyes and said, "A, we have been together for quite a few years. I know when you are lying. I understand if you don't want to talk about it, but at the same time, I want you to understand that I will not judge you, or your parents for the matter. So you can share it with me. I was, I am, and I will, always be there for you."
---
A's POV
I know that P isn't the kind of person who would jump to conclusions, and that he will always be there for me, but I am afraid the reason isn't him, it's me. I have always been scared of sharing my problems with others because I was afraid that instead of trying to understand what I was going through, they might make fun of me and cast me away. Also, somewhere I believed that no one could ever truly understand my problems, so why take the risk and possibly ruin it.
But somehow, in this moment, I feel like taking a chance with P. Tell him things that I have hidden in the farthest corners of my heart, confess how broken I have been all these years and maybe, cry.
However, let's say, if he does something hurtful, then I'll just kill him first instead of us dying together. So, here goes everything
---
"A? Where are you lost?" asked P, waving his hand in front of my face.
"Ah sorry" I said, "Alright I'll tell you but promise me you won't act weird about it"
"I promise." assured P as he lightly pressed my hand that he was holding in his own.
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My dad dragged my mom into their room and then he locked it from outside. They argued with each other for about half and hour and then, my dad started beating my mom. My mom began to cry and screamed my name, begging me to get her out of there. I pounded on the door, pleading with my dad to stop, but he didn't. He kept hitting my mom. I told my dad that if he didn't open the door then I would call the cops.
After ten minutes of pleading and threatening, the door was finally unlocked. My dad was really angry. He stormed out of the room, picked up his car keys and left the house. I slowly walked into the room, afraid of what I might see. The whole room had been turned upside down. The chairs had been thrown across the room, the bottles lay shattered near the door, and there was blood on the floor. My mom was sitting in one corner of the room, holding her head in her hands. She asked me to stay away but I still walked towards her. She was bleeding from her head. I began to cry. I felt as if panic had paralysed my body. I couldn't understand what to do, I...
"That's enough, I get it." said P, wiping off a tear from my cheek. I didn't realise that I had started crying while talking about what happened that night.
"You don't have to tell me anymore. I am so sorry I pushed you into telling me about it. I am so sorry A." said P, embracing me in a tight hug, "I am so sorry."
