This is a new OS. I have written something similar, much similar, in my AR OS gallery. Although the writing is the same, the story however, is different. Especially the end. So please go ahead and enjoy. Plus, this is no continuation from QH đ
Paradise
She's tired of this facade she's been putting on ever since she stepped into this new country. She hates the fact that everything is gleaming above fraudulent depths. She's disgusted at how people tend to overlook everything. Land of dreams, paradise, they call it. She scoffs at the thought.
Teenager stabbed to death.
The headlines filter through her mind as a picture plasters itself behind them. Who could be next, she wonders as she watches the soft ice cascade around her in tiny drop sized balls. Where could it be next? Maybe her, maybe right now. Maybe in this dark, half deserted area.
A wisp of cloud forms in the air before drifting away, as she sighs.
Accosted in the park, as he may have been heading home.
No one was safe. No, scratch that. Anyone who didn't belong in this foreign country was at threat. Anyone with a different accent, with different looks, with a different skin colour and the list could go on. They got along so well. She and him. Big dreams, he had. High hopes and great expectations. He never smoked. He never drank. He never wished ill for anyone. And yet he was the one targeted.
Not a case of robbery as his possessions were still on him.
Her boots sink into the crisp, fresh surface that's been created by the snow. She applies more pressure on the ground but has hit hard rock.
"Tch." She gives up.
Memories of a bloodied face slap through her mind forcing her stomach to jolt. She'd be retching by now if her body had any undigested remains. The cold goes up through to the inner construction of her bones, but she forces herself to remain seated on the safety of the bench in the university. How easy can it get for people to take lives, she wonders bringing her gloved fingers to the mouth? The hot breath warms them momentarily and she dismisses the action.
A sudden vibration in her pocket pushes her back to the present time, out of the state of limbo she's experiencing.
"Hi Appi."
"Where are you? It's late. You got me worried."
"Still at the university. Give me half an hour, I'll be home."
"Okay."
She cuts the phone and stands up abruptly. How? The question fills her mind once more. How could people do this? Didn't they think? That person may have a family to go back to. That person may have a loved one? But do people care, she realizes bitterly. In this sea of ignorance that everyone lives in, no one cares. No one gives a damn what the others go through.
A voice calls her and recognizing it, she turns. His deep brown eyes contrast against the fair skin, and fairy tale white background. His dimples appear softly and he directs a small smile to her.
"It's late." He informs her in a husky voice.
Well done Sherlock.
She doesn't have the energy to start an intellectual one on one, so ignores him. Her head dips down, letting her long, jet black locks curtain her face away from his view. But he's beside her in an instant, pushing the strands away.
"Zoya.." He whispers and she cherishes the way her name sounds coming from his lips. "Go home."
She nods, and watches as he leans forward to kiss her forehead, spreading warmth within her that nothing could take back.
"Walk me." Her soft reply causes him to move back. It's his turn to nod. She moves to the direction of the park, but he shakes his head and insists on the long way, grabbing hold of her hand. They walk in peace, and she realizes their hands are still intertwined throughout the twenty minute journey. It's one thing she's always loved about him. There's no need to fill the silence with her jabber. There's no need to feel awkward around him. No need of pretense. Just being with him helps her realise that sometimes, hiding your grief from everyone is just going to make you weaker from the inside. Sometimes, it's good to let it out. Her grip tightens around his arm. With this comfort, she mulls over what happened a month back.
"Who were you talking to?" the gruff voices in hoodies threatened dangerously.
"Aren't I allowed to be on the phone?" he answered back determinedly, just before he sneaked a small look to the bushes he threw her behind. Her heart was beating erratically as she stayed statue still.
"Cheeky mouth. Going to cost you."
Her heart constricts in pain as she hears the blows, the thuds and finally, his last words. As though he'd spoken them yesterday.
"I love you." He gasped while his head lay on her lap. She'd called 911 and was waiting, holding him close, not to ever let go. The thick grass absorbed the blood as she silently watched his life being snatched away, second by second.
She barely remembers what happened next. Sirens? His closed eyes as he took his ultimate breath? She being dragged away from the corpse?
Before she knows it, they're at her door step. No, she's not going inside else she'll lose him again!
"Don't go." She whispers and in response, he takes a step closer to her. His gaze is radiating into hers, and she chokes down a lump formed in her throat. "Please." Her begging may have done the trick, because he raises his hand and strokes her cheek with his thumb. The touch of desire.
"I have to." His quiet answer, filled with disdain and yearning reaches her. She angles her face, so that it sits on his palm.
"And do I have to let you?" She asks vulnerably and innocently, feeling hot water trickle down her cheeks. He nods, pushing his forehead onto hers. She sniffs once and shut her eyes in pain after taking a deep breath. "I love you. And I always will. Goodbye." She whispers. Her lids remain closed for a while, because she knows once she'll open them, he'll be gone. And sure enough, when she finally gathers the courage to do so, she's alone on the doorstep.
Her eyes widen in momentary grief, as her head swivels around, looking for a glimpse of him.
"Asad!" she calls and waits. But when he doesn't reply, when he doesn't come forward, it sinks in. He's really gone. Really, really gone. And nothing will bring him back to her. The thought clenches inside her gut, it tightens her throat and sends crazy impulsive shocks though her. Her teeth clench in injustice, in fury and in sheer hurt. The hooded figures are back in her mind, taking him away from her. Why him? Why not her? She wonders, leaning against the door.
Her hand immediately reaches for her pocket and draws out a crumpled piece of newspaper cutting that has been cried over several times. The last sentence in the final paragraph catch her eyes.
With a start it suddenly hits her. Not all of the world is bad. Not everyone, hateful.
More witnesses are urged to come forward so that intolerable crime like this can be banished from our country once and for all.
She remembers his touches on her. His caresses, his loving words whispered in her ear. Those summer days, when they would walk about the street without a care in the world. Those green grasses on which they'd sit and argue over who was supposed to bring the picnic mat. The brown trees under which she'd sit and lean against, reading her favourite novel while he'd be strumming a song lazily on his guitar with his head on her lap.
The world is not a fair place. And though it's filled with hate, injustice, vengeance, depression and cruelty, memories of him are enough to get her through it all. Memories created from moments. Moments of love, moments of paradise, that make it worth living in this dark, scary place.
Paradise - Coldplay
When she was just a girl
She expected the world
But it flew away from her reach so
She ran away in her sleep
And dreamed of
Para-para-paradise, Para-para-paradise, Para-para-paradise
Every time she closed her eyes
When she was just a girl
She expected the world
But it flew away from her reach
And the bullets catch in her teeth
Life goes on, it gets so heavy
The wheel breaks the butterfly
Every tear a waterfall
In the night the stormy night she'll close her eyes
In the night the stormy night away she'd fly
And dream of
Para-para-paradise
Para-para-paradise
Para-para-paradise
Oh oh oh oh oh oh-oh-oh
She'd dream of
Para-para-paradise
Para-para-paradise
Para-para-paradise
Oh oh oh oh oh oh-oh-oh-oh
La-la-la-la-la-la-la
La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
And so lying underneath those stormy skies
She'd say, "oh, ohohohoh I know the sun must set to rise"
This could be
Para-para-paradise
Para-para-paradise
This could be
Para-para-paradise
Oh oh oh oh oh oh-oh-oh
This could be
Para-para-paradise
Para-para-paradise
This could be
Para-para-paradise
Oh oh oh oh oh oh-oh-oh-oh
I know it's sad. but it's a sad reality of life. Plus all this is happening in England at the moment and it just got me thinking about the victims. If you're not the emotional type, then just leave a comment about the writing. It's different than what I usually do. I'd be delighted to know your opinions. đ
Love,
Sanaa
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