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Everything uploaded on this blog i.e. Pieces of writing (any word, design, idea, song lyrics, poem, short story, article, critique), and piece of art (drawing, painting) of this blog is © (Copy Rights Reserved). This blog is 'Owned' by MishaalTariq MT™

Any copying of material will result in severe legal action against the copying person(s)/party (ies). I don't copy material from any source, however, I do research to clarify and re-check for the factual etcetera info. I add in 'my' writings.

My writing is opinion based mostly. Follow advice upon your own discretion. Every post and thing here is subject to change. My interests vary. And if there are any grammatical errors, forgive me because I hardly proofread for errors when I am writing.

DON'T JUDGE. READ UPON YOUR OWN DISCRETION. DON'T ASK ME WHY I WRITE SO BLEAK AND LIKE I'M A LUNATIC. BECAUSE I AM NOT. Do feel free to leave in a comment to let me know how you feel like about my writing.

Slainte.

Happy Reading folks!

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By the way, I'm not emotional aka emo globally, so yeah.

Thursday 7 November 2013

Delusions

Writing inspires me. Its my strongest and greatest ever passion. I feel (can't think of words to say how I feel) while writing. It's my weapon. Its the way I express things which I cannot say or don't want to say. I write the best when I'm sad, lonely or when my past makes me restless. Anyway, here it is, a piece of my writing. I wrote this short story some while ago. Hope you enjoy it. And please do tell me how was it. 

Slainte.

It was somewhat pretty cold out there. The wind which was quite freezing and chilly, as it hit my face, felt like a spiky knife-like thing.  It was getting dark, the sky had turned into shades of dark-gray, purple and blue and silence had befallen the town of Norfolk Hills, California. I could hear the waves hit the shore nearby as I glided through the stoned pathway towards my home. There was hardly any passerby or a car on the road, I thought because of thanksgiving. Snow had covered everything except the road and side way which was cleared. Though the bitter of winter was something I did not felt comfortable with but I had always liked winters since I gained consciousness. I remember going out with my dad to Greenland on his work venture. In his free time, we hung out and visited the great icy parks there. There was this time when I made this disfigured but somehow cute little snowman. When it fell I started crying but dad hugged me and told me it was okay. He always did. That was the one thing I loved the most about dad, his assurance and consolation. I felt so protected and secure because of it. My dad, Parker Wilson, was a corporate lawyer, the best of California and he was the proud co-partner of Parker, Davis & Watson. I adored him and always looked up to him. He was one I always went to be it times of hardships or sheer joy. Four years back, in my last year at University of Pennsylvania, I got a phone call from mum. She was sobbing heavily and could not bring up herself to speak anything. I got dead worried and asked her to hand over the phone to my sister Kate. What Kate told me, left a hole in my heart, a huge void in my life that could never be filled I thought. I was so broken after hearing the news that I did not even go for my graduation ceremony. My dad had died in a plane crash. He was going to France for an international conference there and to meet with some clients. But the plane never made it to Paris, it crashed into the Pacific and nobody made it alive.

 It was unbelievable, a bitter reality which I was not at all ready to accept at any cost whatever it may be. I guess it’s always hard to believe when someone we love so much leaves us forever. The realization that, that person will never be with us and all that’s left are memories. I did not go back home and decided to live alone. I rented an apartment in Philadelphia at first but then moved to my dad’s home in Norfolk Hills. I moved everything related to him and sent it away where my family lived in San Francisco. I stayed home most of the day, barely ate something, watched TV all the day or wandered on roads at night drenched in endless thoughts or lost in memories of dad. Sleeping at night was the hardest part. I had nightmares at most of the times and it was all becoming so agonizing. My eyes ached due to sleep deprivation and I got dark circles under my eyes. My hair had become dishevelled and I looked awful. I did not enrol myself in any university for further studies. Life had become so meaningless and bleak. I could not figure out anything at all. I spent most of my time crying. I had ended contact with all of my friends and it hurt me more when none of them tried to reach out to me except Lynn. But she was in London miles away. We talked up on phone sometimes or had a video chat every week now and then but I had not heard from her since a while. Probably due to her studies I thought. So in short my life had become a wreck. But it was all until I came across David.

It was an extremely cold eve of January and I was running out of groceries so I went to the nearby supermarket to get some supplies. I was not feeling well so I hurried through, paid up the cashier and drove home quickly. I stopped at a petrol station on way. Once my car was filled up I hurried back home. I was feeling dizzy and everything was becoming blurred. I tried to not fade out but it happened in the spur-of-the-moment and my car went over the overpass. I yelled out for help because I was drowning and I did not know how to swim. Everything had become still and dark and I passed out. The last thing I remember from that journey was desperately shouting for help. I woke up in a dimly lit room by the lamp beside the bed on which I was lying on. It looked like a hospital room and it was. I recognized it from the equipment next to me and some pins that were inserted in my hand. I tried to get up but could not. I felt so weak and drained. I could not open my eyes properly probably because I was heavily sedated. I saw a man coming near me; he placed a hand on my forehead and asked me, ‘how are you feeling now?’ I tried to speak but could not find the strength to do so. The next time I opened my eyes it was daytime and the blinds were moved away from the window to let the sunlight flood the room. I could see the man sitting in the far corner of the room reading a magazine. He was just about my age I took a wild guess. His green colored eyes had that charm I’d never seen in anyone’s but dads. His hair was jet black and he was wearing a black shirt with sky-blue jeans. I was feeling better than before and more strengthened. The moment he saw me awake he came near me and said, ‘Good morning. You’ve been out for, like a day. Anyway, I’m David. How’re you?’ I told him I was better, he smiled and then told me how he saw my car going over and that he was the one who got me out of the water and brought me here. After hearing all that, I said ‘thank you’. The doctor said I could go home the next day after seeing my charts and progress. David stayed with me and drove me home the next day. I asked him to come inside but he said he had to head off somewhere at that time and that he would meet me for coffee someday soon. I was feeling well again but still dreadfully shocked by what had happened with me. I missed dad even more as time went by. Sometimes I could feel that he was with me. But then it was nothing but a delusion. Almost a week had passed by from the accident and I still went on with the unsavory routine. It was Sunday morning and I had made pancakes for myself for the breakfast with a cup of hot black coffee. As I was just about to plunge into the plate the doorbell rang. I wondered who it was. I haven’t had visitors for quite a while just some visits by the neighbors girl and her little brother. I put the plate and coffee on the table and went for the door. I asked who it was and the reply came was, ‘It’s me’. The voice was kind of recognizable so I opened the door. It was him, David, the guy who had saved my life. ‘Hey, I was uh not expecting anyone today. Well please come on in’ I said with a staggered tone. I took him into the living room and offered him coffee which he accepted. My house had a huge living room with an open kitchen and a long corridor which led to the rooms and study. My dad had set the room in an inquisitive manner which I didn’t destroy because I loved it the way it was. There was an evergreen in the corner of the room, bookshelves covered one wall and the other had a fireplace with pictures of my dad and I placed on the mantle. There was a huge plasma TV on the wall adjacent to it. We talked for like an hour about some random things. I thanked him again for saving my life and I meant it, if it hadn’t been for him I would have probably drowned and been dead by now. His family lived in Florida he said but he lived here in California because of the university. I asked him about his interests and they matched mine, most of them, quite weird I thought. He asked me if we could have lunch with me but I politely refused because I had just known him for a little while and I could not be that blunt with him. He gave me his contact number just in case I changed my mind. He had this aura of pleasure and serenity around him which I found very striking. Quite the individual I always had wanted to meet I thought but I saw to it to hide my feelings and acted really snobbish. Which I realized later on was very foolish of me.

After meeting him something had changed in me. I felt quite lively and full of strength. I made up a schedule and cleaned up the mess my house had become. Tidied my wardrobe and went out for shopping. I got a new haircut and ate out at Tracy’s where I always went with dad at weekends. Their steak was splendid and chocolate soufflĂ© was exquisitely delicious. Some days passed by and I had developed a quite strong timetable. I went out for a long walk in the morning and brought up some books to read. I cooked new dishes and enjoyed them all by myself; well sometimes I sent some to Martha, my neighbors ten year old who looked up to me a lot. It had not been very long since dad had left me but I guess I had to, to move on with my life. To become what my dad wanted me to be. I had to become a successful and bright detective at NYPD. And I did. So I searched up on the Internet for universities and enrolled myself at university of North California. My classes started the next week so I purchased the books started digging into them and kept myself as busy as I possibly could. I did not sleep the night before my university started. The first day there was quite thrilling I met some old friends from my undergrad years and I loved studying what I had chosen. Life seemed somewhat on the right track now. I went to the library to get some books and saw him, David, sitting over there working on his laptop. He also saw me and waved me to come over there where he was. I went there and said hi. I asked him what he was working on and he told me about this project about criminal psychology he had to submit. He was a criminology student, just like me. I found it really fascinating our lives to be so similar, well regarding the things we studied and liked. He said he had tickets to a movie that night starring the actor I adored and asked me if I wanted to go. I quickly said ‘Why not?’ and he remarked ‘cool, I’ll pick you at seven then and if you don’t mind can we have dinner together after the movie?’ I hesitated at first but agreed to it seeing that there was no harm in it.

I went home after my class ended and opened my wardrobe to pick up what to wear for that night. I ended up with a red-velvet shirt and black jeans over which I was going to wear my coat because it was too cold outside. David came at my place exactly at seven but I made him wait another fifteen minutes because I could not find my shoes, which I had to wear. I left my hair open and grabbed my glasses, locked the door behind me and got into his sedan. He was wearing a dark brown jacket and blue jeans. The movie was epic and we went to La Guardias’ for dinner. After dinner we sat there for like hours and talked about like almost everything, our lives, and our plans for the future, families and interests. I had never felt so comfortable talking with anyone before except of course dad. Tears suddenly filled up my eyes as I was talking about dad and I could not utter a word all of a sudden. I was gasping for breath and I felt like everything closing in on me. It was just so painful talking about him; he was startled to hear about the distress dads’ death had caused me. I told him everything that I hadn’t told anyone, how pleasure less I felt before and how meaningless life had become at that time. I was not aware of the reason why I trusted him so much, a stranger, a thing I never did, suddenly but I just know that I did. He said he intended to become a great friend of mine and it gave me hope, a feeling that I had not familiarity with since a long time. Time passed by and we got acquainted with each other so much that we thought of each other as brother and sister and we really believed in that. I shared everything with him and he did the same. We studied together, went shopping together, I sand with him and he played pranks on me which I liked.

Then it came like a blow, like a knife stabling me through the heart and left me wounded horribly. I fainted on the night of the masquerade prom at the university. He took me to the hospital and the doctor took me for surgery at once. When I woke up, David was by my side, the worried look on his face sickened me even more. I was covered by a blue sheet. I wasn’t wearing my prom gown anymore but the hospital one. My head ached awfully and I whispered slowly, ‘what happened David, am I alright?’ he tried to speak but couldn’t at first, then slowly these stabbing words came out of his mouth. ‘You have got cancer, Stace. I-I’m so sorry.’ And tears came trickling down his face. I didn’t know what to say or feel. I suddenly felt so numb and wretched. I was dying. The realization dawned upon me like a nightmare, and it was, it really was. I tried to fight the tears but I could not help and I burst out. He tried to calm me but I cried until I felt relieved. I thought it was no use to lose hope and give up so I decided to fight till the end. The doctor said it was the beginning and most likely it could be cured. That gave me hope and something to hold onto.

It was the last year at university. The treatments had healed me and I was normal again. I was heading back home on a wintry night from the university as a car approached me; it was a navy-blue mustang. Two guys came out of it, they were dressed in black, and I could not see their faces because they were covered by their hoods. At first I kept walking normally but then as I looked back they were still behind me, following. I panicked and started running. The street was deserted. My heel caught up in something and I fell. My head hit the ground and I went unconscious. When I opened my eyes I was in a barn or something that resembled to a warehouse. My body throbbed with pain badly and I felt so weak. I was tied up to a chair and there was a gag on my mouth. I tried to resist but it was of no use. Then after some hours a guy came in. The same black hooded one, this time he was holding a steel rod. I chill ran down my spine as I tried to shout but the gag restrained me do so. The first hit was so blunt and terrible, on my leg that I thought I was going to pass out because of the pain. He kept hitting until I dimmed out. I was found lying, covered in blood, with my hands and legs tied on the river court near the south east avenue of Norfolk Hills. I was instantly taken to the state hospital for medical help and I healed quickly. But the incident was so traumatizing that it left me shocked for the endless time to come. The pain I had to endure for the rest of my life.

Some days had passed since I’d come back from the hospital, and I had recovered fully not mentally but physically. David had moved in with me on my request. He slept in the other room right next to mine. But still I couldn’t sleep properly. I often woke up in the middle of night soaked to the skin or sometimes I was as cold as ice. I had nightmares about people killing me or abducting me. Sometimes I woke up shouting and David would hurry into my room to see if I was alright. David was always there for me, to protect me and took care of me like nothing else. We went to the Alps for vacations later that year but I knew he was trying to make my fears go away and make me forget the strain I had gone through but it was not that simple as he thought he was and I guess he knew it too. I tried to convince him that I was fine but he wouldn’t believe me and say, ‘you don’t know how to lie, dear’. I started seeing a therapist to make my worries and trauma go away. It helped me a lot. I was psychologically healing now as well and that too to a considerable extent. I started going to university again and graduated after a few months with an appreciable GPA and applied for a job as homicide detective at NYPD which I was accepted to a few days later. David had taken a gap year after his graduation and was now searching for employment. He was criminology major too but a year senior than me. With a queer expression I handed over the phone to him and said, ‘Some guy from Interpol is asking for you’.  After he hung up by the looks of his face I could tell it was something he didn’t want to tell me and I didn’t bother to ask. When we were watching the ‘X-files’ later that night he said he wanted to talk with me about something in his room. I switched off the television and went in the room with him. I sat on the couch and he on the bed. He said, ‘I got an offer from the Interpol, Stacy. They want me to be an agent in France. It’s a high profile job and well paid too’ I don’t know why but I felt something break inside me. ‘What do you think?’ he asked. I was about to say, ‘Please don’t go David!’ but I didn’t. Instead I said with a heavy heart and a dreary manner ‘uh yeah you should really go for it; I mean that-that’s awesome news David! You-you should take it’. He ejaculated with thrill, ‘Yeah, I’m going to take it. But…’ We both knew what that meant. He had to go away. He had to move to another country and I had to live alone again. I was so used to him being around that the thought of him being so far away was excruciating. I felt so protected and secure from him being around and now with him gone… My worst fears were starting to brew in my mind all over again.


Next day after grabbing dinner from a nearby restaurant we were sitting in his car. I ate my burger and drank half of the coke and after that I said I was done because I really was. I was full up to the food-pipe. There was this tense air around us, unanswered questions hanging about our heads. I kept staring at his expressionless face, looking into his eyes for an answer. He had to leave the early morning next day. But all he did was held my hand and did not say anything, even just a word to make me feel better or to assure me everything was alright. That we were still going to be together with each other in spirit even when we would not be in the flesh. It was making me frustrated and killing the calm. After all that I’d been through I deserved some explanation but all I got was his stillness. I thought he had lost that fondness he had for me when he first met me. It broke my heart into countless fragments but I wanted to hear it from him, himself. It would be less painful. I got a call from office at the very moment I decided it was time to go. There was a homicide at a precinct near Hollywood, involving a high profile person and I was needed there as soon as possible. Still not a word. I got out off the car and walked over to his side thinking he might say something but again I was wrong. As I turned my back towards him and was about to get going he said, ‘wait’. I moved towards the car. He moved the glass lower and held out his hand. I did not know what to do other than to put mine on his, so I did. He held it closer, and said ‘we’ll work it out, don’t worry’. It was worth it I thought, the waiting and patience. So I faked and pushed up a slight grin on my face. He still kept holding my hand, I had to go so I said, ‘my hand, David’, he suddenly seemed to be awaken from some kind of deep thought which he was apparently lost in. He let it go and whispered ‘I’m always going to be there, no matter what’. It made me feel quite hopeful and satisfied. With a sigh of relief, I held myself together and walked away. ‘Delusions’ I thought. ‘How they rip us apart and tear down every fibber in our body. Give us false hope and break us down when we are at the peak of our vulnerability’.