A Life Of Lies | ✔

Ayansh • 13

Hansika.

It's the first thought that enters my mind. I don't quite know if the thought cleared the fog in my head or I acquired it as the clearing happened. All I know is her name.

And pain. The cold floor is a strange press of relief against my stomach, but I know I can't move. There are still some stamps of dirt from their shoes that are stuck on my shirt. They didn't even use their fists. It was all kicks, smashes and then one huge rod.

Only one of my eyes is fully open, and I can feel the swell on the other. My hand goes to the back of my head, rubbing the dull throb. I don't feel any wetness - or dryness for that fact, so there's no blood.

Hansika. My thoughts revert back to her. I have to find her.

Placing both my arms firmly on the ground, I try to exert force on them to get me up. But they shake from just minimal pressure and I slip to the ground again, whimpering. There's no life in my legs, I don't feel them at all.

Okay, deep breaths. Try number two. I silently pray my thanks that I see no goon in the room.

Letting out a soundless groan, I grit my teeth and prop my body to get on my knees. Harsh breaths rush out of my mouth as I feel my knees crying out from the pressure. They didn't let any part of my body escape from pain.

I look around the room. There's nothing much around except... Equipment. Equipments that are used to abuse and kill. Bamboo sticks, wooden sticks, guns and knives. I crawl to the knives, my lower legs finally feeling life and adding to my pain.

There's a small pocket knife among the sets of knives. I grab it, my fingers cramping in the process. I work the kinks out of my fingers on my thigh and open the knife. It's rusty on one side, the brown-red particles stuck brightly there. The other end is the sharper end, and I feel it on the pad of my fingers. Just a little pressure could draw blood out. I quickly pocket it.

The walls of this large room are vastly unkempt, mould - infested and web - ridden. But, they're my only supporting factor as I try to get on my feet. I feel all the parts and muscles in my body I've never felt before. And they're all screaming from pain. My lips finally give out as I let out a moan of pain.

Good news is that I'm up now. Thank you, God. Hands never leaving the wall, I walk in baby steps, dragging my dead left leg. As I drag my hands along the wall, I suddenly feel a doorknob. But this isn't the main door. I see the main door right in front of me. As I turn to the side, I see the small door. It's almost invisible, having the same color as the walls and badly covered in ages of dirt.

Maybe Hansika's in there. I hope she's in there. The door knob gives in with a squeak when it's twisted.

I stumble inside, my feet ready to give any damn second. The room is dimly lit, and the realization of time dawns on me. Guessing by the distant sounds of the sea shore and the silence of the atmosphere, it's probably past sunset. My eyes (or eye) still don't provide a good vision, but I manage to spot Hansika.