Dedication:snowybook
mistandfuryy
Enjoy :-)
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It's not the goodbye
that hurts,
But, the flashbacks that follow.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ria's pov:-
Tonight was no different. This is the third time I woke up in four hours. There is a dull pounding in my head. My eyes are heavy with sleep, but I am afraid to go back to bed.
The demons I tried fighting, won. The memories I tried to suppress, resurfaced. The person I tried to forget, rules my thoughts, day and night.
I don't think I can continue like this. The pain is too much to bear. Everytime I close my eyes, I only see her face.
"Fuck this." I mutterd to myself, and jumped off my bed.
I lazily made my way to the bathroom. After washing my face with cold water, I felt a bit better. I checked the time and it is 4:07 a.m.
Definitely not the time for a run.
Picking up the pillow, I threw it against the wall. The pent up anger and frustation was begging to be released. I looked around, desperate to find something to take my anger out on.
A defeated sigh escaped my mouth. I started at the wall in front of me. Raising my hand, fisting my fingers, I punched it. Hard.
That definitely felt good.
Punch after punch, I kept going on, all I could see was their smiling faces, laughing at my misery, enjoying my pain.
Punch..."Fucktard!"...punch
Punch..."Motherfucking bitch."...punch
"Bastard!"...punch
Punch..."Diplomatic little piece of shit."...punch
Punch...curse...punch that was the pattern I was following. Remembering all those smirking faces, the pain and the sick torture they made me go through, I kept on punching the wall.
The anger had blocked all my rational thoughts, and the adrenaline coursing through my veins, not only numbed the pain but also fuled my anger.
SMASH
The shrill sound of glass breaking filled my ears and I immediately stepped back.
I looked around and saw the mess I had created.
The pillows were lying near the door and the comforter was half out of the bed. The lamp previously kept on the nightstand is now lying on the ground, in uncountable pieces.
My knucles had burst open, during my little episode. They were going to bruise. Nasty shade of purple.
Shutting my eyes, I breathed deeply. I definitely felt better now. I kept my hand under cold water and hissed when the water came in contact with my injuries.
My hands throbbed with pain. I sat down on my bed, with my head lowered. Today was one of those nights, where my anger had taken a very dangerous turn.
It had always been impossible to control my anger on such days. Back in India, there was a punching bag in my room, so whenever my anger took a toll on me, I would punch my anger out.
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