#NAIRA

I'm anxious about the fact that Jessica is an adamant one. She does what strikes her senses in the first place.No secondary thought. But on the side, if we see her, she is always melancholy.You know she is anguished, then you talk to her and the next second you can see her dancing in the stadium with her favorite song Dynamite by BTS. That's how she is. And I can't see her weak side.

Close people to her know how lamented she is and the juniors of the school know how fearless and savage she is. That's how she is. She utters loud, grabbing attention and when I'm with her in the corner of the ground on the bark of the tree beside the canteen, she whispers with a droplet descending off from her eye.

"What the heck?"."What's happening?"."Nahi, don't worry. Nothing serious. Do pay me a visit in the morning", in a second she replies."Alright, but stop calling me 'Nahi'".Nahi derived from Nai-ra, which then Jessica altered it into Nahi which I detest the most.'😌'.

She seriously is something else.I can see my black bristles gliding in the mirror. My eyebrows curved in a way, I'm so lost tensed. The moon is still blazing.The way we are friends, I can't find the right term for it. We are friends but we aren't best friends nor best friends forever. But all is that, I know her deeply, I may fake things but I know what she feels during everything. She is in some way, has some part of me.The moon is concealing behind the curtains of spooky clouds and my body behind the comfort and eyes after the dreams.

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As the sun ascends smacking my face hard, it's Jessica's texts punching my heart hard. I'm not tensed about my mother's approvals, as she does rely on Jessica in a way that she is good and broken. A few of her stories had been shared with my mom which makes the possibility clearer.I say her the text and circumstances. She assumes Jessica to be having to feel so blue." comfort her in a way you want to be comforted when you are down, Naira".

I clutch my attire, a black long top with red-colored sunflowers sprayed on it, and my red palazzo pant having a random design. Hair set untied, I gait towards the portico having mother waving hands on my house's verandah.

It's 8 in the morning. The auto I'm in is hardly making me listen to the song,' Scars To Your Beautiful'.Passing the supermarket, it's the busyness of the road welcoming my sight.It's hardly 10 minutes to reach her house, Checak Street. As I exit from the auto, a group of pigeons flies off to their Shangri-la, the sky.

"Come in.Jessica have been waiting for you".Thad-Thad, increasing rapidly. Maybe there is nothing to worry about. Maybe there is. My bristles fly rearward showcasing my sweat buds traveling through my forehead then to the narrows. I have managed to wear a brown watch, at least to look 'i'm okay, not tensed'.

Removing my cream-colored heels, with trembling legs I gait in. Her mom Asla, sweet home-maker, Azzan uncle is doing perfume business in Rajasthan.

Passing through the hallway, being in strain I don't want to take time gazing at the furnishings, even though I have been here more than thrice. Her room is the same as before having the theme of pink and white, as we enter a desk greets with a few tedious school books on it, that to color blended of course pink and white. The hanging pictures in U shape with fairy lights above her bed are one of the cool things in her room.

Jessica neither happy nor distraught sitting on the bed scrolling the phone. I can see her eyes glistening as I enter the room. She waits for her mom to depart as soon as she does, Jessica drags me and hugs tightly as if she had never seen me before or as if the way we have been online best friends and is meeting for the first time or like of we have been in a distance relationship for more than 3 and half years. But the point is, the above things are frankly inaccurate.

I feel facilitated by the way she is embracing me now and I'm sure she is feeling the same 'safe and okay'.I know her. It lasts for more than 45 seconds, then she closes her wooden engraved door, locks it, and presses the handle downwards reassuring the privacy. This wooden door seriously doesn't go with her pink and white boo-boo room.

Pink, please don't misunderstand, isn't the color of a fairy tale girl nor a babyish color. It's a color intermixed with joy and cuteness. Please do note,pink-haters.

She makes me sit on her lavender bed sheets. Her room scents Enchantuer body lotion, that too lavender. We sit on the bed facing the window welcoming the sight of her neighborhood and a mango tree, barks permeated through her lanes.

"Come on tell me. What's bothering you?", keeping my hands on her shoulder then we hear the knock on the door like an obstacle to the heart-to-heart conversation."Naira, have some orange juice. Your friend doesn't even care about giving you a drink", she passes a laugh with a wink passing through us then exiting.

Again,door.Lock.Privacy.Reassure.

Her hairs are tied into a ponytail few front bristles falling into her shoulders. Wearing a pink and white parallel lined nightdress is exaggerating the feeling of 'being in distraught'.Than Jessica Azzan, it should be Jessica Pinky.

I gulp the no-sugar orange juice and I say, "Jessy, heart out, please!".She moans. And begin.

"You know, I mean I do know papa is having an awful time there. But that doesn't give the ticket to shouting at me right?. You know how I'm. How I want to. I talk to papa pretty much every day, alongside he had never shared his troubles with me. But I'm responsible to know it by myself, of course. Yes!. What mom says to wear isn't something I love..you get it. And you know what?....this science stream isn't my thing..you know that right?... I always wanted to become something related to media, model ..wow!..now see how much I'm sucked in this silent stream wanting to become a doctor.seriously?...don't you think I'm mad to go for their wish and suck at class?..don't you think?...see...and I'm the way im...im weird...weird..crazy...I'm like this only.im being me. I can't fake being matured..can you?..you can't..you hell can't....I'm not matured but at least I'm not fake right??...see...I'm not hell fake..".Before Jessica could speak more I look into her eyes and say, "wait...What's your real problem?..not the exaggerated one?".Even though her words had hit me so hard, I'm 100 times sure that isn't the cause. I often doubt myself that, I know Jessica better than I know myself. That isn't bad. At least I know someone.

"Nahi....."."Yes?"."I hate myself"."No, you don't"."No I do.I'm a waste and I'm sorry"."You don't.""Nahi..."."Stop calling me that, Jessica"."Okay...I'm not normal", she has her eyes down like she did something sinful but she didn't."If you think you are normal that's when you are abnormal.Indeed you aren't normal you are just out of ordinary".I don't know these words originated from the tip of my tongue. the words I wanted someone to say me or label as me. None did. Those words just didn't slip despite those that have been haunting my mind since I knew I don't trust any, neither myself. i said it because there is a strong statement knocking me every time Jessica speaks, "comfort her in a way you want to be comforted when you are low, Naira".

Jessica has got me, but whom I have got?.

"I feel low and the next second I'm happy. Then the next minute you can see I'm shouting at my mother. And I'm done hurting others. I'm just.""Would you be able to skip the class and join me here?", her droplets trickling from the eye is forcing me to say a thousand yes. I make a call and despite millions of questions, mom says yes, as it's Jessica. But I'm extremely in shock at the fact that she has let me skip the classes.

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This specific Bekal beach holds so many memories. We gait through the gate accepting the receipt from the staff. I walk. She runs.

There are many couples, students, and families over there. But all I could see is that 10th January, Thursday 2019. All I recall about that day is that I didn't stop smiling. I wasn't hurt. I was trustable. All I remember is holding my mates hand and expanding my legs to the waves as I felt it healing me from within. All I know is I was elated.

I feel the surges haven't changed. It's the same, the way it had healed me last year. It's the same. The sand grains are the same. The corroded stools beside the shore are the same. Why is it necessary to have my future changed the cause of a past and not the place that has changed me?.-I close my eyes, feel the semibreve of the waves being conveyed. The sound of mumblings of the soul around me is so much more joyful.We didn't talk until she says it's 5:45. How beautiful is that to have to spend your day in the same place where you had got the most powerful memory?.

----------I reach home with so much satiable in my heart.2 text messages.Jessica,AndEvan.Heart healing,And Heartbreaking."I wouldn't have been this happy if you weren't with me at the terrible time.Beach heals".Jessica, 6:14 pm."I would have been happy if you have said 'no' than making me wait for more than 1 hour time.Expectation Kills".Shane,6:00pm

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I might have thought over thousand times beforewriting this because,real stories +fiction really gives a warm delight and a unbearable pain in the heart.[note:lol,im not in a heartbreak,but when i write something like this people just ask me  that,im the happiest you can ever find now.}

and i have a question,

whether you are writer or not,

if you are reading this you gotta answer this.

Q.how does it feel to add your real memmories in your fiction novel?

and 

why do you honestly add those?.

NOTE FOR THE DAY:

tips for writers,

to write a novel is to start it.

to plot a character is to find real life inspiration.

to finish a novel is to continue writing every single day.

and to write a complete novel is to start it.

if you are so scared to but you are so badly wanna write one,all you have to do is just pen whetever,let be even a silly or bullshit thing.Just write that away.

let the scare engulf you not,

let the millions of words engulf your mind,

and let it pour like a never ending semibreve.