Once Over A Text | √

Call 1 | 2:11 am, Sun

Shanaya|Abhimanyu

Jerk CALLING

"Hey"

"Hi"

"What happened you sound low?"

"How do you know, maybe that's my real tone."

A silence filled both our sides, just untimely breathing filling the void. I felt stupid that moment like he was mocking. For a milli second believing he was playing the emotional card. But I knew, in somewhere he was hurt, no one could sound that low.

Especially him, he's a cheerful person. In fact he is the most jovial and cheery person, he could never sound so low.

So the next thought of mine left my mouth involuntarily. And I was glad they did.

"I know it's not..."

My words were cut short as soon as he processed that I had full confidence in him.

"My dad. He is home today."

"Oh"

"..."

I knew something was very wrong with him, my poor soul. Abhimanyu had told me about his troubled father few days ago.

For what I heard, he wasn't even worth being called a Father. Even the thought of having someone like him in my family sent shivers down my body.

Thinking of the pain he must be going through broke my heart.

Very next moment questioning oneself how was it possible to feel so broken for someone else's pain. That too someone I had never met.

"I want to save my Mom from him, Binky."

I smiled little, a strained one though at the name he had so thoughtfully once kept for her.

"I know you will."

I assured him. I knew he was strong after hearing his story. All he had to do was believe the fact too.

I instantly remembered the night he had opened about his abusive father who hardly stayed there for his childhood or even to support his mother.

It was random nights like this that he'd show up at their door to claim him, her mother saying, stating they were family.

"..."

I heard Abhimanyu lightly snore from the other side, knowing the sleep had overtaken him. Only to ponder upon the thought that it wasn't only sleep but also helplessness, tiredness and all other such weary things.

"Bye, Abhimanyu."

I whispered and I ended the call.

A tear escaped my eye as an imagery I had created with his words describing his mother's struggle, flashed through my mind.

A mother being abused and hit by the man he called his own father. Once his superhero. The screams that the mother thought her son wasn't able to listen because he was caught up in deep slumber. Safely packed in his room. She was wrong. The little boy trembled, eyes wide open with no warmth around feeling his world crashed all at once.