Made For Each Other

Visitors

It had been another boring day throughout. I had decided to go back to my tuitions after dad insisted he couldn't stand me sitting idly inside the house.

"It will give me strength to see you up and awake"

Only in the promise he would be alright, I grabbed an empty backpack and rushed out to school. I had been late but the sullen atmosphere of the class said, their sympathy and sorrow was more important.

"We are very sorry"

They didn't do anything yet, Mrs. Tessa stressed,

"Lets hope for the best. I'm happy you're back"

Rather it meant, thank you in advance for breaking the test tube during the chemistry period. It was the fourth hour. I was taken to the medical room after the chemicals burned my hand a little.

"Its dilute acid. You shall be fine", Nurse Lisa smiled and dabbed my red sores with a cotton bud.

I laid down, and closed my eyes.

"Is everything ok?"

I nodded, feeling nothing was.

"You can talk"

"I would like some silence"

"That won't solve anything"

"Even better"

She was this nineteen-year-old figure in an aged woman's mind. She kept reminding me I wasn't alone, and those philosophical talks she gave whenever one visited her room were indeed worth listening if you were a good listener. Hoping she would shut her mouth now, considering how least interested I was, I remained quiet.

"Every loved one leaves when its time"

The cliche. A loved one's departure philosophy.

"Have you lost anyone close?"

She looked at me, "My daughter"

I froze. I never knew that.

"She was born without a heartbeat"

"Oh.."

I didn't mean to bring back those memories for her. Neither was it a question out of curiosity. It had been a simple way to ask if she did have plans to forget the topic, yet my mind had shut down it seemed.

"How?'

"My placenta ruptured early. She was nine months old."

Almost out. Her eyes went deep down into a gloomy figure. But she smiled.

"However, she is somewhere better now. Who could trust this world?"

She was comforting herself.

I knew she had to.

It was what I had to do, and was not able to.

"It took me a long while. But I did get over it"

"You should get over it too. Because your dad needs it"

I didn't ask how she knew about dad. Thinking it was common sense to think, I got up to leave.

"And if you need help, try not to ask and gain a lot of pity. The world doesn't help. They only express their pain and bring more to you. Get over yours and deal with others"

Those words went deep.

"Rayan?"

He took my fingers and caressed them,

"Do you need some french fries?"

I shook my head. He knew it was my favorite.

Rayan was my best friend. He and I surpassed junior and middle school together, under the same roof with almost the same grades. I was a failure in all my small grades but with the help of the topper, my marks grew. Mom's happiness grew and so did many expectations. So I worked harder than ever.

But today, I was in this wormhole of silence and anxiety and confusion.

Disoriented and broken, I decided not to overthink.

"Tell me. "

"I'm ok"

"I know your not. One cappuccino"

"...with choco cream", I added.

We were in the cafe zone, where most couples and best friends hung out. Being the latter, we occupied the corner to stay away from all the mushy and creamy situations.

"You sure you don't want me to come over?'

"Is that gonna change anything?"

He was asking me for the fifth time in a row.

"No.."

"Is that gonna bring you happiness?"

He nodded.

"Then come"

I didn't want to block my many connections with a few loved ones. If I ended up losing everyone, it would be further destruction and I didn't want that.

The visit to the infirmary had changed my head a tiny bit.

"Your taking pills?"

I shook my head. He glared hard, making me nod.

He said nothing.

He knew this was no time to correct me.

"Here you go"

The waitress handed us the coffee. Rayan smiled as she blushed hard.

"She has a thing on you", I said after five minutes of sipping.

"But I don't"

Fair enough.

Why did I even point that out, wasn't a matter of concern.

"Wanna go to the beach?"

I shook my head.

"The park?"

Both were my peaceful areas but no. Today, all I wanted, was to go to mom again. She could calm me, let me cry and take me into the little land of happiness.

"Ok"

He finished the coffee and stood up, and smiled,

"You know when to call"

I nodded. I didn't look at him. He knew, I needed time more than anything.

"See ya"

I hummed.

And grabbing my bag, rushed to the cemetery.

"Dad?"

I walked inside, my mind flawless at the cleanliness of the house. I looked around, shocked to find the dining table decorated with sweets. Indian and Italian sweets of the finest ever, chocolate, filled the table. My eyes rushed to a brand new refrigerator and a washing machine.

The broken wings of the machine had been replaced fine.

I looked around.

The hall looked famishing.

And so did my dad.

He was in the kitchen and I couldn't believe my eyes. He was wearing a red kurta that lined yellow fabrics and black pants, ironed and perfect. His hair looked dyed after a very long while and he had shaved.

Clean and better, I stared, not believing what was revealed before my eyes.

"You here?"

He heard my bag falling on the floor.

I looked drowsy and dipped in mud. The cemetery ground was still damp.

"What...I mean...what are you-"

"We have guests"

He said softly and slowly walked to the main living hall. It was an extension mom made after she wanted one so badly but couldn't afford it. Ever since her death, I had been sitting on the floor of the half done living room, talking to her.

"She is here"

I was pushed in that state of mind to the melancholy hall where three people sat.

One a familiar face.

It was Mr. Mathews.

Now, you might know him too because he covers the headlines every day. He is the owner of 150 Asian multinational companies and the CEO of the High Heels Makeup Industry, the largest selling business in the last decade. He has sold over trillions of products, making him the billionaire of Asia as of now. 

Mom often talked of him, saying the kindness of the man could kill even an enemy.

It was an eternal shock to see him sitting under my living room, on the newly purchased couch, with a grim face.

Next to him, sat Mrs. Unknown.

She wore a red kimono, the red Japanese indication of a tradition with heavy gold-laden butterfly necklaces and bangles. Her eyes were dark and eyeshadowed with black kohl, making her beauty crooked and her lips were a consistent smirk. She didn't dislike the surroundings, but neither was she comfortable. Her vision kept shifting from one thing to another. Finally settling on me.

I decided to pay her my least attention, considering how she would do the same.

The final guest turned me numb.

Aiden.

Mr. Aiden.

The living legend of CEOs.

It was him.

Aiden Mathews.

The hot shot killing glare who was dared not talked against.

The maid punished for having used too much sugar; Aiden Mathews bites again.

Gardener dismissed after the roses looked poorly tended to; Mr Aiden needs everything straight.

The last headline, from a few days back, rushed before my eyes.

It lit my agony.

Death from the Main Quarters; Assistant Executive lost her life. 

Mom......