Broken Hearts and Blue Veins🩵 (Part 1/5)

CHAPTER ONE: 

I am feeling like my heart is going to fall out when I hear her saying, “He is going to kill her. I do not know how but I know he will. He will kill her today. I need to rush home. Or else…or else…I will never be able to see my mom again…He will…kill my mom…” She starts sobbing softly while saying…I mean, while thinking this. “Why is this queue so long today than usual days?” She screams again. In her head . I know she is in trouble. I need to help her. I pull Natalia and Dom by their elbows away from the queue to let that girl go ahead of us. 

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING SAPPHIRA!!!???” They both scream literally to me in unison. 

“We will get late for the movie if we miss this train.” Dom huffs. 

“That girl has something way more important going on than a fucking movie.” I reply. 

“Not again, what did you hear this time?” Natalia sneers. “Not hearing, ask her what she assumed to hear this time.” Dom tried to correct her. 

“Guys, you still do not believe me.?” 

Dom steps towards me and bursts, “How do you expect us to believe you saying that you have a superpower. Like you can hear people’s sad thoughts.” 

“To be more specific, feel their pain, like you say.” Natalia taunts. 

“Because…I do. I do not know how to make you guys believe.” I snap. 

“NVM. Let us leave for the movie. And no more getting into random people’s mind. Okay Sapphira?” 

I nod and move with them towards the coming train. I still cannot stop thinking about that girl. “He is going to kill her…kill my mom…” My mind keeps returning to her words no matter how hard I try to distract myself. “Kill…Kill…Kill…Kill her…” 

“We are here.” Natalia shouts in excitement. 

“Calm down. Save your screams for the movie.” Dom drags me towards them whilst saying this.I try to keep my mind shut and go with their flow. And during those 3 hours of movie, I try my best not to look at anyone for more than 2 seconds and avoid feeling their pain.

“The movie was amazing, wasn’t it? Natalia and Sapphira?”

“I know right. It was wonderful…Sapphira, shall I drop you home?” 

“No-no, I will manage. Thanks.” 

“You sure you will go home without pretending of dumping into random people’s minds?” 

“I. Do. Not. Pretend. I can seriously listen to and feel their pain.” 

“Bullshit!” 

“Dom, stop now. Sapphira, be careful while going. See you tomorrow at 

college.” 

“Take Care, Sapphira.” 

“Yeah, Thanks.” 

We three leave in different directions for our homes. And now my mind is a bit calm. Still, I am concerned about that girl. I know nothing about her. Her name, age, address, family, problems, nothing! So the only option left to me was to sit in my room and write. 

19th June, 2022 

Dear Diary, 

So today’s victim of my ability to feel others pain was this blonde girl I met, or at least saw, at the metro station. She was worried about her mom getting killed by some man. Was that man his dad? Or his brother? Or someone else. And how did she know that it was today when he will kill her mom? And if she knew it then why did she leave her mother alone? So many questions, but no answers. I hope she was able to save her mom. And if not, I hope she is able to save herself at least in the future. Not from get ing killed but from all the miseries, all the taunts, all the societal drama she has to face once she is alone in this world without her mother. I hope she has someone to help her overcome this phase. I hope the chest pain she was suffering from, which I could feel, gets heeled. I just hope she is fine. Neither happy nor depressed. Just fine will work for her. The way I was able to feel her and others pain was just impossible to explain. 

It was not their pain that surprised me. I knew I was destined for that. What surprised me was that I felt their joy too. Not in the same way I felt their sufferings, of course. But when they got back up, triumphant over the quiet battles and hidden struggles, I too rose with them elated. No one else truly knew what they had gone through but me; likewise no one else could truly know their joy. Their pain was my own; so was their joy. And I always hoped for their fine-ness more than their joy. 

Good night ! 

CHAPTER TWO: 

I woke up feeling much light and left for college. As soon as I entered the campus, I heard Dom calling me. “Hey Psycho. Look. What your girl was in hurry for last night at the station.” He held me a newspaper saying this where the headline was… 

‘A little girl, killed her parents.’ 

I was shocked to see that blonde girl’s picture right beside this headline. I went further into reading the news. 

‘A sixteen years old girl, named Lara Mayfield, was found behind the dead bodies of her parents, Adeline Mayfield, and Jonathon Mayfield, last night. She was found holding a knife flooding in blood. Her mother was seen stabbed in the stomach. And her father died due to his head getting thrashed with the side of a table. The officers on witnessing the crime scene, concluded that the girl first stabbed her mother with the knife and pushed her dad on the table to death when he tried to stop her. Final decisions are still pending. The girl has been taken into police custody.’ 

No-no-no. This is not the truth. This cannot be the truth. That girl was on her way to save her mother. How can she kill her. My inner instinct cannot lie to me. I need to go and meet her. I quickly left for the jail’s address mentioned in the article, ignoring Dom and Natalia calls. 

I was allowed to meet her at the station easily, as she was not declared guilty yet. As soon I reached near her cabin, I could feel the exact same chest pain from last night. But this time, it was sharper, more penetrative as compared to last night. I saw her. She was sitting in a corner, expressionless. I went to her. I did not know what to tell her but I just went. She looked at me and said, “You are also one of those journalists? Then please believe me. I did not kill my mom. I did not. My father did. And I was just trying to help my mom but…but I could not.” 

She started crying. 

“I tried pulling my father away from my mom when he was stabbing her and…and in that moment, my mom died. And, and he…he just fell onto the table. I did not do anything. Please…please believe me.” 

“I know. I know, Lara. You did not do anything. I know. I understand your pain…” 

In that moment, she screamed at me. Told me I would never understand how hurt she was. And God how I wish she was right. And it was not physical pain that left the most scars. It was the emotional wounds. The ones that no one could see to patch up and heal. The ones that left people sobbing on floors while they poured their hearts out in salty tears. People fighting their own silent battles and plastering smiles on their face each morning, those are the strongest soldiers with the deepest wounds. I learned to respect them the most. 

I wanted to talk to her. To tell her that I know she rushed home to save her mother, not kill her. But before I could, the officers came inside and asked me to leave as she was getting violent and could harm me. I left. But deep down I knew that she could never hurt anyone. I could see it in her eyes. More far I was moving from her, less was the sharp pain in my chest. I realized there that I cannot do anything to help her. 

20th June, 2022 

Dear Diary, 

I met Lara today. That poor, little girl was in her worst phase. She lost both her parents and was termed as their murderer. Is that any worst thing? Her life seemed like it will never get back normal now. But do you know w hat the most painful thing about my life was? Having to feel everyone's ache, everyone's misery, so fully, to the extent of sometimes crying for them at night, and then witness them move on and heal and laugh about their old scars, while I am still agonising like a mad person, for that was what ended up becoming. Everyone was mad with pain once. I have been cursed with madness forever. It was in that moment I realised pain was a wonderful thing. It showed we were alive and what we had yet to live for, and a s much as it hurts and aches and makes you want to scream, there is comfort that it proves you are still breathing. As I looked at the people around me, the friends I saw grow into the people they are now, and I felt the pain that brought them here too. I could not help but smile. Pain will always be there, both constant and as a distant memory and although it still hurts, but we were alive and we lived and that meant something. That mean more than something. 

Good night!