Home is place a where - after spending a long and hard day in the scary wild - you come back and feel safe surrounded by the same four walls and the presence of people that are related by both blood and heart - family, in other words. But, for me, more than the scary wild, it was the supposedly 'safe' home that scared me more. Instead of feeling secure and at ease, those four walls felt like a prison - a prison where I was tortured emotionally, mentally, and physically every day. It was draining. It was suffocating. But, still, no matter how hard it was for me, whether reluctantly or willingly, every single day, I dragged my feet to those same walls. After all, no matter how hellish it was, it was still supposed to be my home. But, like every human, even I have my limits. There is a cap to how much stress and torment I can handle, so when it became too unbearable for me, I escaped those four walls of confinement and into the wild.
It was night when I escaped my 'home' for the first time. The visibility was poor and I tumbled and fell more than once but never did I stop running. I didn't know where to go. I just knew I needed to go somewhere; somewhere that is not home. So I just ran and let my feet take me wherever they wanted to.
I scaled a steep slope and came across a small opening up at a height.
It was pitch dark outside and not a single light was on in any of the houses down below or around the height; except for one.
On the very edge of the height, there sat a girl that was emanating a sort of light that I had never seen before. It was a distorted light; a light that I could feel was fading and although I knew it was not as bright as it once used to be, it was still captivating enough for me to hold my breath subconsciously at the sight of it.
I stopped my run and inched closer to her, one step at a time, like a tiger approaching its prey. I tiptoed slowly, so as not to disturb her and the melancholy surrounding her presence. But I failed. It wasn't that I made a mistake. Somehow she had sensed that someone was behind her and she turned her head, quickly.
Our eyes met.
Her eyes.
I wonder what was it about her eyes.
I couldn't look away from those eyes.
Those eyes - they captivated me and pulled me deeper and deeper as if daring and inviting me to peek at her soul if I could.
Those eyes - when I saw them for the first time, I somehow knew that I wanted to see them for the rest of my life.
And those eyes - they somehow felt familiar to me; especially the emotions swirling within.
Her eyes carried a darkness, the sort of darkness that people who are hopeless and have nowhere to run or escape have. The darkness in her eyes had the same color as mine.
People with darkness attract each other. Maybe that was what happened in our case and that was why we ended up getting attracted to each other.
That day nothing of note happened. For more than two hours, we sat in silence under the moonlit night; she was on one edge of the hill and I was on the other.
The next day, I once again came to those hills at the same time as yesterday and once again, I found her, hunched over in the same spot. Then we once again sat in silence though the distance between us was shorter than yesterday.
Since that day, I started going up to those heights every night. Whether the suffering inside my unsafe home pushed me to run or whether it was of my own volition, I was always there at night and she was always there as if waiting for me.
As days became weeks and weeks turned into months, we had grown close. A bit too close indeed. Now, there wasn't any distance between the two of us. We sat next to each other, side by side, with our shoulders touching at times. Now, we no longer sat in silence. We talked and we conversed: about ourselves, about the place we called home, and about the demons we were fighting against. As I learned about it all, I came to realize that my initial hunch was correct that we were both suffering from the same problems that was why we had the same shade of darkness in our eyes and that was why we were able to communicate things which we would never be able to say to anyone else with each other without holding back. We were both wounded in places that we ourselves couldn't reach. Thus, we licked each other's wounds and tried to heal them in our own way.
Both of our hearts had been broken; shattered into numerous pieces and we never tried to pick them up afraid of the fact that the pieces will cut into our hands. But things had changed a bit now. We were alone then, but not anymore. She had me and I had her. We now had someone we could converse with on the same wavelength and someone who could understand the other. So, together, we started collecting the broken pieces of our hearts. Yes, those broken shards did cut into our hearts and soul and yes, it did hurt but I had someone who would hold my hand and share in that pain now, as did she. Slowly, we started gumming those pieces together. The shape of our heart wasn't the same as it used to have; it looked a bit ugly and one glance at it was enough for anyone to see that it had once been shattered. So, what? To others, it may look ugly, but to us, it was our heart, our everything and it was beautiful.
After I met her, I found myself smiling a lot. Something inside my gut would churn constantly whenever I was with her. I knew what it was. She knew it as well.
While we were helping each other collect and gum together the broken pieces of our hearts, some pieces of our hearts had been exchanged. Now my heart contained some pieces of her heart and vice-versa and we both knew we could never pull it out. After all, pulling it out meant breaking our hearts once again. We knew that the foundation that our love was built on was not a healthy one. But, still, there was a connection between us. If we both didn't had to suffer through our own families, then we would never have had to run from our respective houses and into the wild to seek solace. We both believed that it was destiny that brought us together. Even the length of our names and the letters used were the same. The butterfly effect. We met, because we were meant to. We fell in love, because we were meant to. It was ugly yet the most beautiful form of love I had ever seen.
Oh, yes, I went on and on about how we carried the same darkness in our hearts, but never told about her family circumstances.
She was not originally from here. She was born in the countryside. Her father and mother were not on good terms and after her mother had her, she left her father and that place to come to this city. She doesn't have any memories of the place she was born in and of her own father.
Her mother was fairly educated and worked as a nurse in the hospital nearby. To the others in society, her mother probably looked like a strong woman who was raising her daughter all on her own. It was true as well but there was more to her than what met the eye. To put it simply, her mother was abusive. Extremely so.
She didn't pay her much attention. She didn't care about her daughter at all. One time when she got into an accident and almost died, instead of worrying about her safety, her mother had just coldly said that it would have been better if she had just died. That was the least of it though. She would beat her with a belt, shoes, or whatever was available to her just to vent out her anger and frustration. It was clear to her that the reason for her violent behavior was her father. She had made it abundantly clear that she hated him and she hated that she had to raise his child. That's why, whenever she felt like it, she would brandish her fiendish tongue and devilish hands and lash at her daughter.
Although not exactly the same, I could understand her feelings. After all, I also suffered at the hands of those who should be protecting me instead. That was why we could understand each other better than anyone else.
Whenever she was beaten by her mother, I would see scars around her stomach and legs. Her mother was a cunning one. She never beat her in places that were visible as that would arouse suspicion in her. But, one day, she seemed to be so on edge that she ended up hitting her in the face. I still remember what had happened that day.
It was before we started collecting the pieces of our broken hearts. It was what made her open her heart to me fully.
*
That day it was unusual. Normally, she would be the one to arrive first and wait for me but today she was not here. I looked around and could find no traces of her. My heart sank at the thought of not getting to see her today. Even more, I was a pessimistic idiot, so I started thinking that from today onwards, she would not come here anymore and I would lose the only person with who I could be myself around.
As I was about to sit feeling dejected, my heart skipped a beat. With my instincts screaming at me, I whirled around and they were right. There she was. I was happy to see that she had finally come here and she had not yet abandoned me but soon enough that happiness dissipated as I saw the bruises on her cheek and hand - fresh - and tears rolling down her face.
"W-What happened?" I ran to her and held her quivering shoulder.
Through her tear-soaked eyes, she looked at me.
"Nothing. It's just that my mom was more violent than usual."
She had told me about her family circumstances and about her demon of a mother.
Her mom was abusive and she beat her daughter up whenever she felt like it. But, she had an image to uphold in society so she was careful not to wound her any place visible but today, she had clearly been more frustrated than usual, as she bit her daughter without regard to any of her usual carefulness.
Her shoulders were heaving up and down and she was running out of breath. I realized she probably came here running from her house.
Oh, how rough it must be for her to have such a cruel mother! I started sympathizing with her. I knew what it felt like, after all, my situation was no better.
She looked so fragile and so lonely. I wanted to hug her tight. I was about to but someone disrupted me. Someone who had never come here. Someone who should have never come here.
"Where do you think you are going?" Her voice was crude and sounded like it was coming from the pits of hell. She had a bottle of wine in her hand and her hair was a complete mess. Her face was scrunched up in a foul expression, one that I would rather not see any time of the day.
Hearing the voice, RXXXX tensed up. She fearfully turned around and then a single word escaped from her lips, "Mother..."
I looked at the woman in front of me. So, she is her mother, I thought, the mother who has ruined her life.
The woman took a wobbly step forward and suddenly, grabbed RXXXX by her hair.
"Who told you that you can run off?! I was not yet done!" Then she slapped her hard on her cheek. A painful moan escaped her mouth and reached my ears that pinched the deepest corners of my heart.
Now, my blood was boiling. I was enraged. I looked at the woman with blood-soaked eyes.
How dare she! I screamed internally. How dare she hurt her! I do not remember feeling this enraged ever before. Heck, I didn't even know that I was capable of feeling angry to this extent.
The woman noticed my bloodshot eyes.
"Huh? The hell are you? Why are you looking at me with those eyes?!" She screamed.
RXXXX turned to look at me. She realized that I was angry - angry for her sake and she could probably see in my eyes that I was about to take action. And she was right. I had to take some action. I can't bear to see her get hurt any longer.
I took a step toward them.
RXXXX shook her head from left to right and softly mumbled, "No..."
She didn't want me to do anything. She was pleading me not to interfere. But, my heart was already set in stone. I had decided to intervene long ago and nothing will sway me anymore.
I closed my eyes for a good while; probably for a minute.
I could hear the woman snicker. It was a filthy sound. Then the sound of the slap echoed again.
My eyes shot open and I sprinted toward them.
She was about to deliver another slap to RXXXX but before she could, I placed myself between the two. As a result, I received the blow instead of her.
RXXXX looked bewildered, not able to comprehend what had happened.
"Huh? How dare you come in between us! Leave her! Leave her this instant!" The woman screamed.
I turned my head and with all the hate I could muster, I answered her.
"Hard pass!"
I don't think I have ever seen a person's eyeballs bulge to that degree. Her eyes went red with anger and she hollered.
"Is that so?! Then, fine! I will beat you into a pulp first and then that little bitch that you are trying to protect!"
Her mother started raining blow after blow on me. At first, it was just slaps but then those slaps turned into punches followed by kicks.
She continued to hit me, clearly enjoying herself, and I continued to endure it.
From within my arms, RXXXX pleaded to me.
"Stop it. Why are you doing this? You are getting hurt. I don't want to see you get hurt because of me. Please, free me this instant!"
Blood trickled down from my mouth. She panicked after seeing it but I reassured her by tightening my hold around her.
"It's alright. I can endure this much. Compared to what I usually get at home, this is child's play." And I was telling no lie. The punches and kicks of a man hurt a million times more than a woman's so it was not that hard for me to endure.
I wonder how long she continued to beat me. It felt like quite a long time.
I lay on the ground with RXXXX crying beside me and the night sky expanding above me.
"Tsk. I am bored now." I saw her mother spit that as she left us finally.
"Why?" I could hear RXXXX sob next to me. "I told you to stop, didn't I? I told you not to intervene, didn't I?"
"Ye..ah.."
"Then, why did you?!"
"To protect you."
"I never asked you to."
"Not asking for help doesn't mean that you don't want to be saved." My words rendered her silent.
I opened my mouth and inhaled a mouthful of air.
"At first, I actually wanted to beat your mother. I was angry at her for making you suffer and I was even ready to kill her if the need arose. But, when I saw you shake your head and ask me not to do anything, I changed my mind. Because I realized something.
Even if I were to beat her here, it will change nothing. She would be more enraged and angrier at you for having someone else beat her up for your sake. The violence will increase. Despite all the torture you have to suffer every day, you have never rebelled once. And I know the reason why - it's because she is your mom. In this world, your family - those you call your family - are what protect you. But in your case - and in my case - we suffered at the hands of those who should be protecting us. But, no matter what they do to us, we can't rebel or run away. After all, where else are we supposed to go? At the end of the day, we have to return to them, we have no choice. And thus we can't afford to enrage them. If we did, our suffering will only double. So we have no choice but to suffer in silence with the hopes that the torture won't increase in magnitude."
I turned my eyes from the night sky to her.
"If I had beat her up and enraged her more, it will only mean more suffering for you. And I don't want that but I couldn't bear to watch you suffer more. So, I did what I could. I took your share of suffering. I protected you without worsening the situation. That's what I did."
"Why? I never asked you to suffer for my sake. I never wanted you to suffer because of me. Why did you have to...It makes me sad."
"It probably did. But..."
I tried to push my body up with my hands but the pain numbed my body and I fell back down. Before my head could collide with the ground below, she caught me, gently and then slowly supported my body to rise.
"...didn't that make you happy as well? That someone out here is ready to suffer along with you and suffer for your sake."
Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. She probably was at a loss for what kind of face to make as her lips constantly curved up and down.
Finally, after much time, her lips settled for a little awkward smile and she looked at me with eyes full of genuine happiness.
"Yes, it did." That smile completely blew me away. How could someone be this beautiful? I couldn't believe what was in front of me. I couldn't look away from her. I didn't want to.
Before I knew what was going on in my mind, my lips moved on their own.
"I love you, RXXXX."
She didn't look surprised. It was almost as if she already knew that I was in love with her. In response to my out-of-the-blue confession, her smile deepened a little.
She didn't say anything and just moved her face close to mine.
Then, gently, she pressed her lips against mine.
I had never been to heaven before.
Her moist and gentle lips pressed my lips gently. I could feel it; I could feel everything about her: her smell, her lips, her tongue, her breath, and even her soul.
She said no words but that kiss conveyed more than what any words would have managed to.