Jonathan Hunt is a lonely person with his own sad story; And so is Ashleigh Bradbury. John, however, finds his ways to balance the pain and mirth in his life. Ash, on the other hand, has started to live with the pain. While John is learning to adjus...
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"Our scars make us realise, that our past was real."
❛❛「₪」❜❜
Ash's P.O.V.
As I got up for my first day, I went near the washroom. After bathing, as I saw my face in the mirror, the first thing- like every day- which caught my eye was the twenty stitches I had on my forehead. And just a glimpse of them would always take me to my past.
Not wanting to start my day with negativity, I somehow distracted myself from the thoughts of the bad old days. I went into the hallway towards my mother's photograph and said, "Wish me luck, Mom. And come back to me soon."
As those words left my mouth I realised I had started weeping. No matter how hard I tried, and no matter how much I controlled myself, tears kept falling on her photograph which was now in my hands.
Wonder where she must be right now.
And then came the bad old days flashing in front of my eyes like it was just yesterday; for the millionth time in the past five years.
"Mom, I am thinking am gonna buy a new handbag today. This one can break apart anytime." I shouted in a hurry, waiting for her reply. Of course, she didn't say anything. Ignoring me was fun for her, perhaps.
"Mom!!! Do you hear? I am getting late for my internship mom. Please." I shouted.
"So what are you expecting from me? Do whatever you wanna, I don't even care." She stared at me angrily. Doesn't bother me anymore. I have been used to these looks.
"Fine! But, at least give me yours for today."
"No way! Do I look like some charity person who gives her things to every other random person she finds?"
"Mom, please! I am not here, waiting to be felt abandoned by you like every day. I am asking for help!"
"Aren't you getting late? Just be lost, Ashleigh!" She shouted. Having nothing else to say, or even feel, I got lost as she asked me to.
Mom had always been rude to me. But there is just one thing that will remain in my broken heart forever... she never called me ASH.
And no it was not about a mere nickname, it was about the feeling of not being loved. When someone loves you, they call you in a thousand ways. That isn't for show-off, it is just a part of their feelings towards you that got portrayed. It just comes out naturally. Sad enough, I never heard that from my mom.
