Painting Life

T w e n t y - S i x

I am smiling and I love my minor characters more than my major ones. Damn. What is happening to me? Help. (Vote/comment/fan too and I'll love you forever :D )

~Rida <3

<< Everything that drowns me makes me wanna fly >>

Twenty Six | Childish games, popcorn and Marathons

D a n i y a: 

There were times when you felt like you could fall for ages and never hit the ground. As I turned and thrashed in my bed once again - insomnia kicking in - it was how I felt. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Haris and my own pathetic face. 

When I was small, I believed that love was the best thing to ever happen to a person. Little did I know, that it could be the worst and that love, sometimes, could never be returned. 

I was starting to sound like some, pathetic, lovesick protagonist. I didn't want to be that girl - the one who thought only of the person she loved, the one who followed every one around. 

I may have been bullied but my dignity was still there. 

I got up, not wanting to think anymore. I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep. It was the same every single night. I thrashed around, hoping I'd be able to put my eyes at rest but I ended up overthinking or on bad nights, crying. 

But it wasn't of any use. No matter how hard I tried - how long I closed my eyes - I was still thinking, still hearing the annoying sound of the fan above me. I was still very much aware of how the curtains flapped against the window or how there was a slight crack on the ceiling, right beside the fan. 

I was mindful about how my silky black hair felt against my neck and how my eyes were aching for sleep. 

There was no escaping this disease and the only thing to do was to find a past time. Sure, on some nights, I scrolled across my tumblr newsfeed or stalked my favourite wattpad authors on ask.fm. On others, I read books. 

But there was no particular hobby, one only preserved for the nights, alone. And I knew what it would be. After all, Haris had complimented my writing skills. Maybe I could write and publish one day. Maybe...I had some talent. 

It was all a matter of taking a risk. I knew if I didn't get any votes on wattpad, I would feel rejected once again which might lead to depression. But then, writing wasn't all about becoming famous. It was about ourselves and maybe I could learn that with time. 

So I flipped on the light and rummaged my cupboard to find my laptop, buried behind my clothes. Leaving the cupboard in the haphazard state it was, I slammed the door shut and got ready to write. 

By the time it was morning, I was still writing. My hands wouldn't stop typing the words that I had long since buried inside myself. So when my father pounded at my door, I was still hunched over, slamming the keys furiously. 

"Wake up, sweetheart!" He hollered from the other side in an annoyingly loud voice. 

"I am waking," I shouted back. "I'll be down in a minute." 

"Cool!" He said, lowering his voice, now that I was wide awake. Little did he know that I suffered from a severe case of insomnia. I had never told him or anyone. I had never found any reason to. Insomnia couldn't be cured. "By the way, you got accepted in HIU. We'll go to dinner tonight with your mother to celebrate!" 

My lips stretched in to an insanely huge smile and I pumped my fist in the air. Shouting back an okay, I walked towards the bathroom, a good feeling taking over me. 

"Are you sure you want to do this?" I asked my father uncertainly as he attempted to hide behind a bush. Somehow, he had managed to smuggle some kids in to our house (not really smuggle - more like manipulate their parents) and insisted on playing hide and seek. 

But I wasn't so sure if it was the best idea because he was having a hard time finding hiding places. His broad frame was hard to fit. And since he wanted to hide with me because of my inane reason of his, he gave me away too. 

I had gotten really in to the game after playing it for fifteen minutes and my father really wasn't helping. 

"Yes!" He said enthusiastically. "We'll have the best time, kid. They'll never find us." 

"Just remember that I have a mind and I know they'll find us," I replied skeptically, slipping in with Dad easily. He moved a little, rustling the leaves and I groaned. 

"Quit complaining," He scowled. "I am an expert at this game." 

I snickered, "And that's why you are trying desperately to hide behind a small bush and feeling. Plus, you can't even keep quiet. But don't worry. I am sure experts do that all the time." 

"Oh, shush with the sarcasm," He said affectionately. "Just have fun, okay?" 

"But I want to hide where they won't find me!" I whined. 

"Baby girl, it's about having fun. Not winning." 

"Winning is fun," I pointed out.

"You are impossible," He sighed. "Next time, hide on your own!" 

"Yess!" I hissed happily and he just looked at me for a little while, before shaking his head with that small smile on his lips which meant the whole world to me. 

"I so won all those games!" I said triumphantly, doing a happy dance, while standing on the couch. Dad was looking at me weirdly and I guess he had a reason. This type of behavior was alien for me. 

"Okay..." He said slowly. 

"Don't look at me like that," I complained, plopping down and grabbing a fistful of popcorn. I shoved it in to my mouth and some fell down. Dad groaned in frustration and picked them up, scowling at me to show he was displeased. But his smile gave him away big time. 

"Like what?" He asked mischievously, grabbing a fistful himself and somehow, managing to eat them all without having them spill on to his lap and on to the floor. 

"You know," I said, moving my hands a little frantically. "Like I am an alien or something. It's creeping me out." 

He smiled now full-on staring at me. I shifted uneasily on the couch and decided to ignore him, fixating my eyes on the T.V, where Wizard Of Oz was playing. After a few minutes, I glanced at him from the corner of my eye to find him still looking. 

I raised my hands in surrender. "Okay! You win! Just stop staring!" 

He laughed loudly, "Oh my God. I love you, baby girl." 

"I don't." 

"Shush. I know you do." 

Mom walked in at the very moment, her phone pressed to her ear. I just knew she was talking to Haris and I half-glared at her before turning back to Dad, who was observing me carefully.

"What?" I snapped. 

"Nothing." 

"She loves Haris more," I said dully. 

He moved uncomfortably and shoved another fistful of popcorn in his mouth. But the worst part was; he didn't respond which automatically meant that my assumption...wasn't an assumption anymore.