IVARA POV
"Come here, butterfly... look what I got for you."
"No... no, go away. Please..."
"Shh... everyone will wake up. Don't shout."
They don't scream, they whisper and that's what makes them unbearable, Their voices are soft, almost gentle, but the memory of them claws at my mind like something alive. The quietness makes it unbearable, like the darkness itself is listening.
I wake up with a sharp gasp, my body jolting upright as if someone pushed me off a cliff. My skin is damp with sweat and my heart is beating so violently it feels like it might burst out of my chest. For a few seconds I can't breathe properly.
My eyes dart around the room, searching the shadows, half expecting someone to still be there.
But the room is dark. Quiet. Empty. No one is there.
Just me.
A small, broken laugh escapes my lips as I run a shaky hand through my hair. Of course. It's only my demons again. They visit almost every night, like uninvited guests who know exactly where to find me.
The door opens softly, the faint creak snapping me back to reality.
"Iva, freshen up. You're getting late for university. Come for breakfast."
Ma's voice is calm and ordinary, like nothing unusual has happened. Like I didn't just wake up fighting ghosts that no one else can see. I blink a few times, forcing my breathing to slow down before answering, trying to sound normal.
"Okay, Ma."
She doesn't ask if I'm alright. She never does.
Not because she doesn't care but because caring, in our house, is shown differently.
Words like are you okay or I love you are rare here. Instead, love hides in the small things we do for each other every day.
I get up and walk over to her, wrapping my arms around her from behind in a quiet hug.
"Make aloo paratha for me?" I mumble, my voice still thick with sleep.
She hums softly in response. "Hmm."
That's it. That single sound is her version of I love you.
My mother isn't affectionate like the mothers I see in movies or on social media. She doesn't hold my face between her hands, doesn't kiss my forehead before I leave the house, and she definitely doesn't say those three magical words.
But she shows love through food, through routine, through waking up early every morning to make sure I never leave the house hungry and honestly, I love her for that. Still... sometimes I wish I could feel that warmth everyone talks about.
After she leaves the room, the silence slowly returns, wrapping around me again. I sit on the edge of my bed for a moment, staring blankly at the wall as I try to collect myself.
One breath. Two. Three. Inhale. Exhale.
I roll my shoulders back and whisper quietly to myself, "Okay."
Time to survive another day.
Standing in front of my closet, I stare at my clothes like they've personally offended me. There's something deeply unfair about having to choose an outfit when all I really want to do is crawl back into bed and disappear for the rest of the day.
"Why can't I just stay in my room all day?" I mutter to myself with a frown. "University is overrated anyway."
I sigh dramatically, even though I know it's pointless. As if I actually have a choice.
In the end, I grab the usual baggy jeans and a plain white shirt. Simple. Comfortable. Safe. I tie my hair into a ponytail, slip my watch onto my wrist, and apply just a little makeup. Enough to look presentable, but not enough to look like I spent hours trying.
When I finally glance at myself in the mirror, I tilt my head slightly, studying the girl staring back at me.
"If I'm a lesbian, just tell me already," I whisper to my reflection with a small laugh.
The girl in the mirror smiles back.
But the smile doesn't reach her eyes.
Because underneath the sarcasm, the jokes, and the carefully practiced confidence, insecurity sits quietly inside me... watching everything, listening to every thought, waiting for the moment I slip and somehow, I know it never really leaves.
POV END
"WAKE UP! WAKE UP! If you don't get up in ten seconds, be ready for the consequences!"
The shout slices through the room.
Ethan's eyes fly open, his body jolting upright. For a second, he thinks he's late. Or worse that he's done something wrong again.
But then he hears it.
Music. Loud. Careless. Blasting from the corner of his room.
He exhales sharply.
Ayaan.
His younger brother stands there, headphones half hanging around his neck, grinning nervously.
Ethan runs a hand through his hair, trying to calm the irritation rising in his chest. He swings his legs off the bed and walks over, smacking Ayaan lightly on the back of his head.
"How many times have I told you not to play loud music in my room?"
"Sorry, bhai... I forgot," Ayaan mutters quickly before slipping out of the room, afraid to test his brother's temper any further.
Silence returns.
Ethan sits back on his bed.
Sleep was the only place that felt peaceful.
He learned long ago how to numb his emotions. How to shut things down before they could hurt but no matter how hard he tried, his demons still remembered him.
And they never forgot to remind him that he was broken.
He pushes the thought away and gets up. Another day to face. Another role to play.
He walks downstairs, the smell of breakfast filling the house. His mother stands in the kitchen, making food for everyone like she always does.
Without saying a word, he wraps his arms around her from behind.
She smiles instantly. She doesn't need to turn around.
She knows, its her eldest son and the only one who still acts like a child in front of her.
"Ethan, go freshen up," she says gently. "I'm making breakfast. And you are not skipping it."
He groans dramatically. "Mum... how do you always know it's me?"
She laughs softly. "Because you're the only one who acts like a baby."
He pulls back, pretending to be offended. "Mom! I am not a baby."
She laughs at his little drama, shaking her head.
"I'm going to the gym," he says, grabbing his keys.
"Eat something first!" she calls after him.
"Bye, Mom," he replies, already heading out the door.
As he steps outside, he feels it
the weight of sharp eyes watching from somewhere behind him.
But Ethan has learned not to fear shadows.
When you grow up with darkness,
you stop being afraid of it.
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