Chapter 81 - Scars From The Past

|Innaya|

***

"Cry, cry harder. No one is going to listen to you," the creepy voice of that disgusting man sounded from the distance.

His sadistic laughter echoed in the room. "Hahahaha." I whimpered curling myself in the fetal position. 

With a crash glass bottle of the alcohol shattered in pieces somewhere in the room.

I did not understand why the man who was supposed to protect me against everything had turned into a monster. The innocent mind of my eight-year-old self could not comprehend the enormous change in the man who was once loving and caring. I remembered him staying beside me for the whole night when I had fallen terribly ill. I was about four or five then, but I still remembered it.

"You deserve it. Because of you, I'm in this condition. You'll have to pay the price for it." The footsteps neared me. I shuddered with fright.

"Mom," I called out for my mother. She was nowhere to find. Where was she? I wanted her to save me. I needed her beside me. Why was not she coming?

My thoughts were broken when a belt cracked loudly against my back, and I cried out in pain.

That was the first time I saw my father being physically abusive towards me. I did not know his reasons, but that incident was the start of my nightmarish life.

***

"Innaya."

"Shhh... It's okay."

Someone pulled my hands from my ears and those hands cradled my head. I blinked my teary eyes. Lifting my head, I saw Eshan's worried face. I was still stuck in that horrific memory but as if my body had a mind of its own it limply fell in Eshan's arms.

I clutched him tightly against myself. I did not realize how he was before me. When they stopped fighting, or what others were doing, all I knew at that moment was Eshan could save me.

"It's okay. Calm down. Breathe," Eshan whispered in my ears, his hands patted my head and back. He gently rocked us, the action usually we do to calm a crying child. Somehow his actions helped me. I breathed deeply. I clutched his shirt tighter in my fist as I hid my head under his chin. I wanted that voice to be gone. 

"I... Eshan..." My voice trailed as I sobbed in his arms. I had circled my hands around his waist. Why was this happening to me? I just wanted to lead a normal life. Why was it so hard to be normal?

Eshan continued to caress my skin, and his touch, as if magical, was helping my tensed muscles relax. He was my biggest strength. 

It was an undeniable fact. Maybe, I had done some very good things in my past life to have Eshan as my life partner.

I had come so emotionally closer to him that involuntarily I had given him a right to hold me when I fall, to mend me when I break, to comfort me when I grieve - a right that I had never given to anyone in my life except him.

I had never let my troubles, sorrows, and pain, be conspicuously visible in front of people. Never. In the starting years, Grandpa used to be there, but later I started hiding it from him too. I just did not want him to feel worried. The moment I would realize that I was going to go in 'a bad state', I would immediately leave the place, refrain myself from the people, lock myself in a closed place even though I was slightly claustrophobic and bear my attacks all by myself.

My past was so horrible and the pain was still raw that my claustrophobia did not feel enough troublesome in front of it.

That was how my life functioned. That was how I functioned until I met Eshan. Once our lives were entangled, not a single day had been in life where I had to deal with my PTSD alone except for the last two months. Not a single day where he did not support me.

He was beside me, in my every moment of pain.

He was beside me, in every attack I had.

He was beside me every time my inner demons took over me and began dragging me in the darkness. He - Eshan - never let those demons succeed. He always held on to me, firmly, and did not let me go - in the darkness. His warm embrace warded off the negative memories and those voices. 

Eshan hissed when my hand touched his back. Even in my muddled state, I heard him. Though, Eshan tried to hide it by diverting my attention by caressing my back. I still sensed his pain. 

How? I did not know, but there was a strong instinct in my heart. 

They were fighting. Was he hurt badly?

I pulled back, to check on him. How could I be so careless? "What happened? Where are you hurt?" I asked him, trying to detangle myself from him. Eshan refused to let me go. He just held on to.

"Leave. All of you. Sahil, don't return until you sort yourself out. I won't welcome you here if you're going to insult my wife," Eshan sternly said. I could feel he wanted to say something more, but he refrained. Maybe, because of me. Probably he did not want to hurt me. He did not want to say something insulting to his friends before me. It was fair enough though. Some things were better said between those only who are concerned.

I had forgotten about his friends. Eshan pulled me back in his arms, hiding me with his body from the views of his friends. I was grateful for his gesture. I was not ready to face his friends... At least not Sahil. I could not be selfish. His friends were worried about him. They had a right to know about him. Eshan should not drive them away. It would only create distance in their friendship.

I opened my mouth to stop him. "Eshan-" I called his name to not behave in such a way. Eshan ignored me. 

"Leave. We'll meet next week," he replied to his friends, and lead me out of the garden towards our bedroom.