"Sometimes our light goes out, but is blown again into instant flame by an encounter with another human being." 

– Albert Schweitzer

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Different cover

Misha's POV

Once my college classes had concluded for the day, I made my way to the parking area to wait for my brother. He had an extra half-hour class, so I decided to use the time productively. I headed to my locker to stow away my books and prepare for my wait. However, my plans took an unexpected turn when Trent, one of the handsome and math-savvy individuals from my math class, approached me. We were also partnered up for an upcoming project.

"Hey Misha," Trent greeted me with a friendly smile. "I wanted to check if you're free this Friday."

Curiosity piqued, I responded, "Yeah, I am. Why do you ask?"

"I was thinking we could work on our project together," Trent explained, more as a statement than a question. "We have to submit it in two weeks, and it might be more efficient if we collaborate."

"Okay," I agreed, though with a hint of uncertainty. "I'll confirm with you tomorrow."

"Sounds good. By the way, could you enter your number in my phone so we can coordinate later?" Trent asked, handing me his phone.

After sharing my contact information, we bid each other farewell and went our separate ways. As I proceeded toward the parking area, my attention was caught by the sight of Karan standing near his car, engrossed in his phone. However, as soon as he spotted me, he quickly stowed his phone in his pocket and began walking in my direction. My brow furrowed with confusion as I tried to decipher his intentions, but then it struck me that I had completely forgotten about the message he had sent me earlier, in which he had asked to meet him.

As Karan approached me, his demeanor was noticeably tense, and irritation seemed to radiate from him. His initial glare sent a shiver down my spine, but then he surprised me by closing his eyes briefly as if attempting to regain his composure.

"Why did you take so long? Did you forget I was waiting for you here? Or maybe you did it on purpose," he snapped suddenly, catching me off guard. I flinched in response to his abrupt outburst.

"But never mind that for now. Come on, let's go..." he said, gripping my hand and pulling me towards his car.

My confusion deepened as I struggled to keep up with his rapid pace. "Wait! Where are we going? I thought you wanted to talk," I managed to ask, but my words seemed to fall on deaf ears as Karan remained determined to lead the way, leaving my question unanswered.

Once we reached his car, Karan promptly opened the passenger seat and gestured for me to sit. Without wasting any time, he occupied the driver's seat and swiftly drove us away from the school premises. In those initial moments of the ride, neither of us uttered a word, and the silence that hung in the air was palpable. To break the uncomfortable stillness, I cleared my throat, hoping to initiate a conversation.

I turned to face Karan, but his expression was inscrutable, and his tightly clenched fists gripped the steering wheel. It was evident that something weighed heavily on his mind, but I couldn't fathom what it might be. The atmosphere inside the car was fraught with tension, and I found myself at a loss for words. I wanted to inquire about his intentions, to ask where we were heading, or at least to understand what he wanted from me, but as I glanced at him, it felt as though my voice had deserted me, leaving me unable to articulate my thoughts in this uncomfortably charged environment.

As minutes of discomfort stretched on, the car finally came to a halt. I instinctively looked out of the window to gain some understanding of our whereabouts, and what I saw completely caught me off guard. It was a familiar beach house. Instantly, a burning sensation seemed to wash over my head, and a cascade of memories rushed back.

I found myself transported to a vivid recollection of a moment from my childhood:

"Are you okay?" a boy asked.

"Yeah," I heard a shy girl's voice respond.

Then, in my memory, the girl stumbled and fell, prompting our father to rush towards her, offering words of comfort. "Mishu, please stop crying," Dad consoled.

Another memory swiftly followed, this one involving Prisha, with a mischievous and malevolent look on her face as she pushed me into the water at the beach.

Suddenly, a suffocating sensation enveloped me, and I felt as though I were drowning in the past. My surroundings blurred, and everything went black.

When I regained consciousness, I found myself in a room that felt both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time, lying on an unknown bed. My initial confusion and disorientation gave way to anger and frustration as I realized that I was alone in this strange place. Just moments ago, I had been with Karan in his car, and now I was here, without any explanation.

The door swung open, and in walked Karan, holding a glass of water. My gaze fixed on him, a mixture of confusion and anger simmering within me. I couldn't comprehend why he had brought me to this unfamiliar house and, more importantly, why he was treating me like a patient.

I was seething with unspoken questions, but before I could voice them, Karan spoke, his tone cold and distant. "Don't look at me like that. I know you have many questions, but just don't bother to ask me. Just meet your mom, and I'll drop you back home."

His words hit me like a bombshell. "Mom?" I stammered, utterly bewildered.

Karan didn't offer any further explanation. Instead, he urged me to drink the water and directed me towards a room where he informed me my mother was waiting. He emphasized that I had only an hour before we would be leaving this place. His brusque and dismissive attitude left me with no choice but to comply.

I walked towards the room where my mother was, taking deep breaths to calm my nervousness and excitement. While I didn't fully understand what had transpired in those past years, I was determined to get answers now that I had the chance to meet my mother. I had wished for this reunion to happen differently, for my father to be the one to bring me to her, but that no longer seemed important. I was here, and I intended to learn everything about the events that had unfolded in those mysterious and missing years of my life.

As I entered the room, a strange sense of déjà vu washed over me. The room looked exactly as it did in my recurring dream: the walls were painted a soothing shade of blue, my mother's favorite painting hanging near the window and everything seemed uncannily familiar. But the room held a stark contrast to my expectations as I looked towards the bed, where I had hoped to find my mother well and happy.

Instead, my heart sank as I saw her lying in the center of the bed, unconscious and attached to various medical instruments by a web of wires and tubes. Shock coursed through me, sending shivers down my spine. A solitary tear escaped my eye, tracing a path down my cheek. I hadn't realized that I was crying, but the sight of my mother in this fragile state overwhelmed me.

She had always been my childhood idol, the epitome of love and care. Now, as I stood beside her, I yearned for her to wake up, to look at me with those familiar blue eyes, to prepare my favorite breakfast, to comb my hair, and to share all those missed moments and experiences with me. The depth of my longing had only just become apparent, as I stood there, unable to hold back my tears, realizing the immense emptiness her absence had left in my life all these years.

I went and sat down on a chair that was placed near her bed. I took her hand in my hands and kissed her on her forehead. 

"Mom..." I started. I missed calling her so much. "I miss you so much. What has happened to you? Why are you like this?" 

Standing there beside my unconscious mother, I was at a loss for words. I knew that there was no point in speaking to her about the questions that plagued my mind. The nurse who accompanied my mother had informed me that she was in a coma, but she could hear me, provided I maintained a positive tone. There was so much I wanted to say, to complain about my father's treatment of me, to demand answers about what had happened to both my parents, and to inquire about the whereabouts of Prisha. But all these thoughts were steeped in negativity, and I couldn't bear the idea of my mother hearing such distressing words while she lay in this vulnerable state.

So, for the moment, I held back those thoughts and emotions, choosing instead to be a source of positivity and comfort for her, even if she couldn't respond. My desire to see her recover and to have her back in my life, regardless of the circumstances, far outweighed any grievances or questions I had.

Lost in my thoughts and the emotional turmoil of the moment, I hadn't even noticed Karan entering the room. His abrupt words pulled me out of my reverie. "Let's go now," he said, and without further ado, we left the room, leaving my unconscious mother and the enigmatic beach house behind.

As we made our way back to his car, my mind buzzed with questions and uncertainties. How did Karan know about my mother's condition? What was going on, and was he somehow familiar with my family? Did we know each other in some way that I was unaware of? And what had triggered that vivid flashback of my childhood?

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Thanks for reading.

Lots of love.

xxx