The Outcast 23

AND THERE I GO …BACK TO THE OLD WOUNDS, BACK TO THE OLD PAIN>>>

Thundering black clouds, I had always been a fan of the rainy seasons, adored the smell of wet sand while standing beneath the black clouds and simply breathing. I still adored that smell, yet there was an intense feeling of loneliness as the clouds roared above my head. My heart….it was breathing in the sense of calmness and watching it disappear in the void of my soul.

Empty. It was so insane that the emotions had hit so hard, felt like I was being overdramatic and overactive, but happiness just had been so close; so warm in my hands and felt so good in my heart.

Now sitting on my room’s couch, right next to the window, I could feel the black clouds roaring outside while I focused on trying to read one of my favourite novels ‘Twisted Roses.’  It was a mystery novel, with it's antagonist leaving behind roses as important clues.  I was thoroughly impressed by the brilliant minds of the detectives chasing after that criminal.

Although this time, instead of finding myself lost in the intriguing world of fiction, I was hardly managing to concentrate.  Bonding over a coffee with Lisa - 'the books fan from my knitting classes' - had really tangled my mind.

Stockholm Syndrome.

Lisa claimed that this strange mental illness was basically when a victim begins to sympathize with his/her captor and justify his cruel ways to the extent of even glorifying them.  Having heard of my case, she asked if I had ever suffered from the symptoms of falling under the illusion of caring for my kidnapper.  I had, but was it an illusion?

At first, Carmen had been cruel, but that was different.  He was simply insane yet had warmed up.  Was it because of Stockholm Syndrome?  Had my mind unconsciously developed emotions that were meant for protecting my safety? Maybe.  It made sense, but why was my mind so against this idea?  I wanted to believe that I had been betrayed by Carmen and not by my own emotions…needed to believe that there was something more to Carmen’s personality than just being a harsh figment of my imagination. I just wanted to blame.

Wincing as sudden thunder jolted my soul.  I returned back to my book and frowned upon reading a poetic stanza that triggered my nostalgic mood.

‘The waves….the roses were wilting beneath the storm and flowing away with the wind.  He watched them float away…watched as his identity disappeared and his own soul floated away.’  because they were lost…they hadn’t found the right waves,’  I completed.  That surprise in Dubai, that poem, it had been sensational.

Thick tears immediately started spilling into my heart, breaking my calmness. A victim of Stockholm syndrome, a fool and a reject once again; twice betrayed, shame on me.

Soon, the subtle rays of escaped sunlight began fading away and the night sky appeared behind the black clouds.  Night and day, they seemed the same now.  Snuggling with my woollen blankets, as the haunting silence continued to bite on my forced sense of calmness, I placed my book away and looked outside the open window.  The wind, it was so cool, calm, and blowing straight towards me.  I let it breeze straight towards my soul.  I was floating, escaping from my mind and just floating.

Caught in a beautiful escape, my heart jolted as the front door of my house slammed open.  Mama and Papa had gone to Mrs and Mr Nishaan’s house. They had  locked the house behind and promised to return before the dining room’s candles began to melt, yet they were late.  I didn’t  mind.  My parents needed this relaxing time…they needed to bond with people whom they had always supported and cherished, even if those people never chose to return the favour.

Shrugging away such bitter thoughts, I decided to go downstairs and have dinner  with my parents.  My thoughts, I couldn’t handle them anymore.  I needed a break, some distractions.

Quickly heading downstairs, I watched Papa locking the main door and Mama wiping her feet against the main door’s mat.

‘Back already?’  I gave them a small smile.  

‘Oh, sorry dear,’  Mama gave me a guilty look.  ‘You know how it is.’ she began walking towards the kitchen, making me raise an eyebrow.  Something was off.  Mama’s expression!  I wasn’t sure what to make of them, but they seemed distracted.

Since the past weeks, she had been extra attentive and loving towards me; always welcoming me back home from the knitting classes with warm hugs and promises that she won’t let anyone take me away again.  Yet today, she didn’t seem that intense, more like she was completely distracted by something.

‘Ma,’ I cautiously followed behind her. ‘Is everything alright?’

‘Yeah, dear, just give me ten minutes to quickly prepare food, okay?’

‘Okay,’  I sighed, looking away.  Something wasn’t right.  What happened at Mr and Mrs Nishaan’s house?

Soon, with the dinner being served, Mama began, asked me about my day, what was going on in my knitting classes.  I told her about Lisa, but Mama, she just seemed so distracted.  Seeing that my parents were a bit lost in their thoughts, I had my dinner, quietly excused myself and retired back to my room.  My mind, it felt so tangled.

Was there something Mr and Mrs Nishaan had said? Had something happened that was deeply worrying my parents? Was it Carmen? Somehow, my mind always returned back to him; Carmen.  The blames, the hurt, I wanted to hold on to the hurt, his betrayal.

Sniffing up empty tears, I chose to walk towards my couch and snuggle with my blankets.  The open windows taunted freedom and the blankets, they were safe and warm.   I felt like these feelings were a side - effect of being captured for so long; everything just gained an entirely new meaning.

The moonlight was completely flooding my room now, and I just felt like the breezy wind was making its way straight towards me.  Freezing my tears with its tangible coldness and making me feel so exhausted.

Closing my eyes and leaning back against the couch, I shifted in discomfort as the silence began taunting my mind again.  There was a tinge of self-pity lingering in the background with my soul.  I shivered as the feeling of hysteria grew profound.  Soon, my room door opened and I reopened my eyes, smiling at the sight of my mother stepping into my room.

‘How are you feeling?’  She asked, holding a glass of warm milk in her hands.

‘Confused,’  I decided to be honest, sitting up straight.

‘That’s better than being depressed,’  she walked up to me and handed me the glass.  I gave her a grateful look.

‘Thanks.’

‘Listen,’  she then settled down on the foot of my small bed. A few steps away from me.  ‘You know we went to Mr and Mrs Nishaan’s house today, right?’

‘Right,’  I nodded, giving her a confused look.  ‘What about it?’

‘Well,’  she looked hesitant, biting on her thumbnail while turning her gaze away from me.  ‘They told us that Bradley is coming back in a week and that …’

‘And what?’  I prompted, moving towards the edge of my seat.  ‘What did they say?’

‘They said that they wouldn’t mind patching up old ties and that they have already spoken to Bradley about it and he agrees,’  she finally met my gaze in an apologetic manner, making me gasp in shock.

‘And you are okay with that?’

‘Absolutely not,’  she immediately shook her head. ‘Your dad was actually pretty angry at that suggestion.  No daughter of ours is going to be a second chance…especially not when that boy is just returning back from jail, but…’ she returned hesitant, causing me to frown.

‘But, what?’

‘I know how that whole rejection affected you, and I just, well, I wanted to ask what do you think about all of this.  Bradley has always been a nice boy, and him being imprisoned was mostly because of his father.  He would never indulge in corrupt activities.  In fact, he was thoroughly against his father’s ways, so I believe we should ask you before saying anything to Mr and Mrs Nishaan.’

‘I ..’ I just didn’t know what to say.  This was so sudden and shocking.  That Bradley’s rejection episode was something I had dealt with a long time ago.  Those wounds did hurt from time to time, but I was over them.  Or was I?

Bradley had always been the one I compared with Carmen; he was sophisticated, well - mannered while Carmen had been so crass and crude.  In fact, for a long time, I had envied Aisha so much because of Bradley, yet suddenly I was no longer envying that fairytale.  This new-offer-it gave me no happiness of joy, but sheer pain by making me think about how I had to move on.  Forget and move on.

The imagery had changed, the hero was no longer a golden boy, but a broken psycho whose betrayal had been so harsh and eye opening.  And that thought alone made me feel like throwing a tantrum.  I couldn’t keep on being on emotions that had been so badly manipulated and toyed with.

Perhaps, this was the twist in my fairytale. Perhaps, I had been thinking all wrong, and Carmen was never meant to be a hero, more like a villain, whose entry in my life was just something to face my old wounds and eye the world from a whole new perspective.  I used to be childish and completely unaware of my naïve habits.  This had been an eye- opener.  And perhaps, that is exactly what I needed before starting with the next chapter of my life.

Now hating the tears as they started collecting in my heart and refraining from sniffling in sorrow, I lowered my head and quietly whispered.  ‘Tell them that I am okay with it…’  My voice worked hard to refrain from cracking.

‘Are you sure?’  Mama gave me a concerned look.

‘Yes.’

‘Sarah…’

‘Mama, Bradley has always been a good man, and I think I need to move on from that whole kidnapping episode.  This will be a good step.’

‘Alright, If you are okay with this, I will go and talk to your father,’  She quietly mused, making me nod.

‘Okay,’

Watching her leave finally made my invisible tears finally trickle down.  My emotions…they were a mess, but never was I going to allow myself to break.  Never again was I going to look at the past.

I was going to start a whole new chapter of my life and make sure to keep the memories of betrayals, manipulations, completely forgotten.

I WAS GOING TO FORGET OLD WOUNDS..

I NEVER KNEW GOLDEN LIES COULD BE SO DECEIVING…

Bradley had returned.

There was a wave of celebration floating around.  My parents were happy.  Mr and Mrs Nishaan, alongside Bradley, were coming to our house today to officially ask for my hand, and I just didn’t know how to feel.  This was really happening; I felt numb, confused and definitely not ready.