I can't tell you what it really is

I can only tell you what it feels like

And right now there's a steel knife, in my windpipe

I can't breathe, but I still fight, while I can fight

As long as the wrong feels right, it's like I'm in flight

'Love the way you lie' blared through the speakers as his grip on the sleek black steering wheel tightened and the car shot through the road amidst the canopy of trees at this time of the night. His heart went absolutely haywire as his obsidian eyes shimmered in the dark shroud of the night. His feral past had again started to take a toll on him.

What with torturing Safa being the nexus of his life, he thought he could muffle his tormented life. But No. The more he tried running away from it, the more it came after him, trying to engulf him in its pall of dreadfulness and sheer anguish.

"This is not you. You're not you."

Everything was so messed up. Cluttered. Clobbered. Those pent-up emotions bulging inside him yearned to come out but like always he never gave in.

His tongue felt bitter against his dry lips as his mind kept going back to that moment.

Her figure crashed on the floor. His heart-beat erratic.

Asmara was right. This was not him. He was not being himself. A man who couldn't even hurt a fly went as far as hurting a human.

Then something took on him and he roared like a stray lion, continuously banging the steering wheel with full force of his hands as the car ricocheted above the speed limit in the deserted road under the moonless night.

******

Without making any noise he tiptoed in the palatial living room of his grandiose house as to not wake anyone else up. The darkness had surrounded the premises from every nook.

Just when he was about to make his first flight on the stairs, someone called from behind in a courageously-quavering voice and he shut his eyes.

"Stop, right there. Don't make any move. I'm armed."

It was Raina. Who else could it be?

He turned around with his hands up in air like a criminal and his eyes were met with a perforating flash of the torch light making him wince.

"Bhaiii!!" His 18 years old baby sister squealed with exuberance, clad in an overly sized white T-shirt and trousers, brown hair opened like always.

"Shhh!" He tried hushing her up but her excitement knew no bound. "You're gonna wake mom and dad up, you idiot," he whisper yelled and she apologized as she bit her tongue on her naivety.

He convulsed his head at her antics when his gaze fell on her weapon she was referring as arming herself with; a butter knife covered in nutella.

"Is this how you defend yourself?" He flicked the side of her head in amusement and her hipster glasses perched on her slender nose slipped down a bit causing her to push it back with her forefinger.

"What's going on?" Sameena's voice reverberated through the premises as the tube light enveloped the darkness in its cocoon.

"Oh, so the king finally decided to grace us with his mighty presence," she mocked as she wounded her arms on her chest, hiding her wayward emotions behind the mask of anger.

This was the first time he came home after his trip to USA and even though Sameena had asked him umpteen times to come home before going to the village, he didn't listen. He had some important things to take care of, according to him.

"Come on, mom." Azlan drooped his head to the side and walked over to her. "I just got back home. Is this how you'll welcome your only child?" He wrapped his hand around her shoulders.

"Hey?" Raina screeched with her immature hysterical expressions and Sameena cupped Azlan's cheek.

"How many times do I have to tell you mom and dad picked you up from a trash bin?" He asked with snorts of suppressed laughter as he pulled Sameena in a hug and she guffawed at their banters.

"Mom!" Raina stomped her foot.

"Aha, my baby! Come here." She beckoned Raina for a hug and she strolled towards her as she thrust her tongue out to Azlan and he rolled his eyes, shaking his head.

Sameena cloaked both of them on each of her arms.

"Come on, now. At least, don't lick the knife. Have some manners, for God's sake," Azlan piped in on seeing Raina blatantly licking the nutella away. She made a face in return.

"Anyways, you eat so much and still don't get fat. And then there's me who gets fat just by inhaling the air. What's your secret? Seriously!"

"Yeah. It feels great to be God's favorite." She grinned a toothy smile.

"Still in a better shape than you though." He announced as a matter of fact-ly.

"Yeah, that's because you hit gym like a maniac."

"Girls hit gym, too, you know."

"Yeah, I'd rather stick to my nutella than looking like John Cena at this young age," she chirped.

"Either way, I hope you fit into that stolen-shirt of mine soon," he said as he strode towards the kitchen.

"I didn't steal it. Just borrowed without permission," she yelled after him, making Sameen break into fits.

******

He flung in his bed as soon as all of them had prayed Fajar (morning prayer) together. Shehryar, his dad, had asked him to have some rest before the breakfast.

As soon as he closed his eyes, the ashen face of Safa surfaced in front of them. He rasped and turned over as if that would save him.

She was scared of rain and he knew why. Which is why he wanted to punish her. To make her go through that torment, that fateful night once again. But now it was wrenching him. Brutally.

What if she had died?

After like ten minutes of tossing and turning, he finally propped right up and buried his face in his hands. He turned the side lamp on and pulled the drawer to retrieve his sleeping pills and his eyes fell on the picture lying there.

He picked it up as a lone tear pined to escape his orb but he didn't let it. He was just like that. He hated crying because it reminded him how weak he used to be. How coward and gutless.

He stared at the picture longer than he had thought as his visage contorted back to his deep and dark expressions washing away every tiny bit of humanity he felt for Safa.

It was worth it.

******