Till The Count Of Five ✓

Chapter 39

Chapter 39

We're just kids in a show where the adults are better at hiding their pain. Just kids who did not know slipping in a bathroom meant a lot more.

Vee

13th May 2019, Monday
15:00

Raj stared at me through the rear view mirror. His constant questioning gaze was a reminder of what he thought I should be saying but I wasn't.

"Are you going to stop at the warehouse?" he asked with hesitance.

"Why are you hesitating if you're letting your curiosity get the better of you?" I said. "And no, we're not going."

His fingers tightened around the steering wheel. "I concluded," he muttered.

I leaned back and shut my eyes. "On a second thought, we're going to the hospital."

Something did not settle well with me. Something. I visited the building where it happened yesterday and I knew something was wrong. She could not have walked all the way to think and then decided to die. I shifted in my seat to steer away the pain in my back. And she had slept in a half built building when it was cold outside. Shay was not someone to keep things to herself for others' sake. No. She confined things because not everything could be shared, not everything should be shared. I knew it. Even someone as quiet and tolerant as Mehak would show signs. She did not.

"We're here."

I opened the door and stepped out. The click made me turn and I waved at Raj to not worry. I wanted to be left alone. He tucked his seatbelt back after shutting the door but his wrinkled forehead did not want to leave me.

It was tiresome and a little invading, having someone constantly on your head. I knew that when Ashiamma yelled at me for treating her like a lost child. As I went inside the hospital, I just realized sometimes one needed to be a little cautious. Or atleast adapt according to the one you were looking out for. Ashiamma said not to and I stopped worrying about everyone.

My fingers paused right outside Shay's room and I cursed under my breath. I was supposed to look out, not complain to Ashiamma about her state. It was her state. She knew it better than anyone else, identified it and tried to get rid of it. My heart pounded against my chest as I let my thoughts sink in. It was in January when it all started. This was May. It took five months, five fucking months to understand what she had meant that night. Five months and a few horrendous mistakes.

"She's not getting any better," Shay's mother spoke. My hand remained on her door. "Her body is just not fighting."

She pushed the door open and I met Shay's bruised face, ridden with worry but freedom at the same time, her cheeks a little yellow and skin shining under the light. The monitor beeped slowly, almost leisurely, taking its time to make a sound. I felt my heart rise in my throat. I tried not to look at her leg. She got herself another injury, another wave of pain which she had very conveniently shifted on us.

"Why did you say you knew this would happen?" I asked, swallowing.

"I'm a mother. Mothers know their children. You kids think we don't see your friend or the dirt that shows you were shoved again at school or how your hand continues to rub your head. You think we're blind. You feel embarrassed. But there's nothing sadder than this - as parents, we can't talk to you because you simply won't do that. I saw her break everyday."

"So you think it was bound to happen? Why didn't you do anything?" I asked, unable to digest her justification.

"It's not a justification," she mumbled. "You don't understand, do you? I'll just show you, then." Her hand grazed Shay's cheek and she kissed her on the head.