There was this boy who grew up, I am the one. I usually think that I would write more but eventually end up writing less. And that’s weirdly funny.
When I was born I thought that I was the only happy kid, it was so true. I was like with wings, I could fly anywhere and live anywhere and be the owner of twisted world. It was not less than soon that the realisation hit me. I was not the happy one.
I never understood what fight meant unless I saw my mom and dad fighting. The fights were frequent, and with violence. I used to cry and beg them not to fight. I feared to sleep, as I always used to think that they would start fighting again. The people in the locality were annoyed by this. I felt ashamed and was left unhappy. They did not give a rat’s ass about my feeling. I was kid anyways. It did not, it went on and I was like this unhappy, not good going academically strong kid. I feared fighting. Every day I used to think that someone would beat me too and I had no courage fighting back. I was this nerd who was unhealthy.
The harsh reality hit me when I was in middle school, my mom left home and married this other guy and got settled. I have a bro from there too. That was a trauma and I could not take it. My grandma took me to some other place and made me study, I forgot all, and I got adapted to this life. I am kind of doing well right now.
I don’t want to make any point. It is just that it won’t be the same anymore. I may not love them, but I respect them. I will respect them always. I want my father to be happy and it same for my mom too. But there would be no happy endings like those of movies.
I am currently at this point, standing. I have two options; I can catch or I can throw. I will catch. I have learnt and I will follow and make a better life........
