The Ultimate Truth- A fiction story

Riya, a 24 year old, happy go lucky, strong girl. She stands for the right, a rebel by nature. She loves from the guts and hates from the heart. Ironically, hate is a very harsh word; she can’t hate anyone but abide by ‘ignorance is the bliss’.
Her family looks up to her and feels sky high. Sometimes, so high, a pain in the neck to be approached or even cared about.
Life so far has been far away from her. Her, to die for smile, can make you believe what she wants you to but trust her when she says that looks can be deceiving.

I will narrate this story in her words

For a good little span that I have lived, I have strongly believed that, we are born for a reason and are unaware. It is a lifetime’s quest to search for the reason of being and be at it or just live with the rest of the world, dragged and dropped by the travelers around.
To gain that reason behind existence I have tried experimenting with jobs, partners etc but could not find the ultimate truth.
The days of 24years, ideally the most memorable ones have been in adoring me that no one else could. Wannabe friends, wannabe partners and tangled parents surrounded me.

Parents are those beings to whom kids look up to. They want to be like them, I don’t.
My parents are different their love is so deep that its traces can be found on the depth of their wounds. Their passion is so strong that their strength can be measured in the broken glass pieces on the floor.
To cut the roots of their problem they got so involved in their created mess that they forgot about the last trace of their existence, me.

Hence, to get their attention back, I invented a plan. A plan I have worked on for years but lacked courage to execute the same.

One winter mid-night, daddy comes home, drunk and mommy, like a wounded Tiger waits to attack. 'Keep the door of your room open incase...' she says. I am armed like a warrior to give my best shot if things get out of control. I hid all the belts, Spatula’s, Lighters etc
It was routine though but now I dare to stand in their way to stop it once and for all.

I was planning on my strategy. A strategy that will get the drunk in consciousness and angry in calmness.

Daddy bang opens the door and mommy shivers. His abuses can make you deaf and she responds. They get in the battle armed with metal and start the war. I witness helpless cries and fumes of anger in the air. I lay down my strategy.

'Mom Dad please don’t fight, I need your help, I am on drugs, please send me to a rehab or I may kill myself'

Silence takes over the room and I have a smirk on my face soon taken over by a warm gush on my cheek.
The investigation began. They asked me What I doped on, How it started, Who was involved and What went wrong in my mind to undertake such cruelty. I fumbled and mumbled on answers about things that I did not have a clue. The rest of the days were followed by a Rehab hunt.

Today I am lying on my Rehab bed and narrating the incident to my clueless friend. The rehab can’t find a trace of drug, because I never did it. However, the vacation and a change in the schedule, mine as well as parents, was very much needed.

People call me crazy, wild child, freak, bad girl but dude this weirdo did some good shit.

...and they never fought again