Bookworms | ✔

thirty-six

At a high-class restaurant, Nicholas fumbled with the ends of his dress shirt, nervously fidgeting in his seat at the thought of being in the same room as his parents. Bright candles lit every corner of the room in its luminescence, casting shadows on the tall wine bottles and bleeding a deep red into glasses that reflected the wealth of the people sitting in the room. 

He noticed the fake laughter coming from adjacent tables, women plastering plastic smiles as their frigid bodies sat tall against the red cushioned chairs, gold coiling itself around the metal. The men across them gave the women devious smiles, lips tinted in the ruby drink, eyes cold like the freezing slopes of a mountain. Nicholas squeezed his eyes shut, anxiety rising in him. 

I don't belong here. 

The affluent men and women around him were nothing but phonies. Every word that escaped their lips signified an empty promise. Every touch that they gave implied a hidden motive. Every smile meant another pathway to damnation.

These people were absorbed in reality, dreams being nothing but a distant cry and hope being crushed under their palms as they swept away the weak and helpless in a cape of misfortune. 

I can't do this. 

Nicholas glanced outside the window, where his friends stood outside the street, observing the street festival as they awaited his presence. His eyes immediately landed on Dina, her wide smile at her older brothers warming even his heart until it melted in the palm of her hands. As if noticing his gaze, she turned towards him, and Nicholas instantly froze, capturing her sudden beauty.

She smiled at him, toasty brown eyes relaying the sympathy he needed to survive the meeting with the two people who mentally shredded him into pieces. Knowing that Dina, Haroon, Humaid, Elijah, and Elijah's girlfriend were standing right outside the restaurant eased the trembling from his body. The cloth of their comfort wrapped around Nicholas, letting him know that there would never be another day for him to be alone. 

Because Nicholas was no longer alone. 

His friends waved at him, smiling. Nicholas slowly smiled back.

A bell rang, indicating that someone had walked in. The two figures were tall, power radiating from their shadows. The room went silent, his parents' footsteps echoing off the marble floor, his mother's heels clicking against the tile as her knee-length dress showed off her figure to the greedy eyes of men around them. 

His father was no better. Dressed in a navy blue suit, his blonde hair was swept back, blue eyes twinkling in a false light, and a simple red tie tightened around his neck. He stood a foot taller than his mother, gripping her hand into his own as they smiled at local business partners and model agents. A boulder seemed to drop in his stomach as he realized that his parents would acknowledge him last as usual. 

"Nicholas," his mother said, "it's great to see you again."

A sly remark was at the tip of his tongue, but he suppressed it. "Yeah."

His father glanced at him wearily. "Are you alright? You normally don't take the initiative to talk to us," he stated, taking a seat across from him. "Do tell us why you decided to."

"I wanted to... talk."

Fixing her brown curls and crossing her legs, his mother gave him a questioning look. "Oh?"

"Are you finally ready to accept the business?" asked his father, eagerly. "Tell me you are. It would make me the happiest man on Earth."

His words were a stab to his chest, protest melting onto his tongue as shock internally pivoted Nicholas. "You'd rather have an heir to a business than an alive and healthy son?" he inquired, harshly. "You'd rather I be as fake as everyone in this room just for your business? Do you even care about me?"

The atmosphere shifted, their bodies tensing at the revelation. Fear gripped his father into its claws, choking him to the point where he was speechless. Nicholas became angry, confused, frustrated at their lack of respect towards his problems. As soon as they walked in, they wanted to talk business, not about their son. They didn't care and they never would because souls as dark as theirs never knew the meaning of love or affection.

"Nicholas-" he started, eyes widening. 

"I knew this was a mistake," mumbled Nicholas to himself. "I knew you two wouldn't care. Do you know I tried to commit suicide again a couple weeks ago? Do you know that I was so close to killing myself that I had no regrets at the time?"

His mother's green eyes began tearing up. "You need help, son. You can't keep doing this," she urged before turning to his father. "Do something!"

"Nicholas, we sent you to that hospital to get better not worse. What happened to you?"

He stayed silent.

"Sweetheart, please talk to us," begged his mother as she placed her hand over his. "Don't keep us in the dark anymore."

"You sent me away," whispered Nicholas. "You treated me like I was a mistake."

"No, sweetheart-"

"Mom," he cut her off with his own tear-welled eyes threatening to spill, "you were never there when I needed you most."

Her lips sewed themselves shut, green eyes averting to the floor instead. Shame covered her, printing its stamp across her forehead as she realized the validity of her son's argument. Nicholas had no idea that mothers could be so cruel that they forgot about their children. They didn't realize what they had until the child was gone, until the child was dead. 

"Neither of you cared. You sent me away like I was a disease."

His father cleared his throat, uneasily glancing at the people nearby and making sure no one heard their conversation. "Why did you choose not to," he paused as if the next words caused him pain, "kill yourself?"

He inhaled a deep breath, knowing his friends were right outside for him. "Because I finally found the love I had been searching for. I finally found people that cared. It's a shame that I can't say the same for my parents," he said quietly. 

Under the brightness of the crystal lamps that illuminated the room, Nicholas saw the dark shadows cross his parents' faces, blue and green eyes mirroring the horror that he had once seen in Dina when she forced the pills out of his body. Guilt weighed heavily on their shoulders, his father spluttering for any excuse to free him from his own chains, yet none escaped. 

There was no excuse. 

----

Guess who finished all her AP exams? Me! Also, Ramadan Mubarak to all the Muslims! It's a time to atone for your sins and try to get closer to Allah. 

One of the things that always made me proud to be a Muslim is that every year Allah gives us a chance to change, a chance to get closer to Him, a chance to have all our sins from the previous year be erased through fasting. It's incredible so take it seriously. 

What do you think Nicholas's parents will now do?

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