Running From The Truth (by Emma)

Chapter 17 - Outset

Chapter 17 - Outset

Khushi awoke in the middle of the night, and glanced at the bedside clock that read 3'o clock in the morning. She rubbed at her face, still feeling the tear stains as she had cried herself to sleep last night.

After her call to Anjali, she made her way to speak with Buaji and completely lashed out on her. She yelled and screamed, after all how could she have kept such a thing from her? All these years she had spent thinking that Arnav didn't care for her. When in reality, he had been trying to get in touch with her for over a year. Buaji felt ashamed and guilty, but explained that it was for her own good. She did not want to see her niece hurting anymore. Yet, her Buaji should have at least understood that it was her right over those letters, and it was her choice as to what she wanted to do with them.

Khushi could vaguely remember during University, Buaji never letting her pick up the phone. She merely thought that her aunt understood that she had no interest of talking with anyone during the time. When in reality, it was always Arnav calling.

She had fallen asleep clutching the letters, not daring to open them. She was terrified of reading them; she knew it would only bring her more pain.

But she needed to do this, for herself and most importantly for Arnav.

It wasn't as if she could fall back asleep, so she decided to start right then.

Her dainty fingers pulled the band off that held all the letters together, and released them, almost as if she was pulling at something in her own heart and letting her emotions run wild.

She opened up the first envelope dated back to August of 2006 and ran her fingers across the page that was imprinted with Arnav's writing. His messy handwriting, she had always made fun of him for it. The ghost of a smile came upon her lips. She took in a deep breath before proceeding, and read the words intently.

Dearest Khushi,

I have never written a letter in my life. I have never needed to, or even desired to do so. But today, when I took this piece of paper and pen in my hands, these words were written effortlessly. Here I was, thinking I wouldn't know what to say, yet the words are flowing out naturally, it seems as if my hand is moving on it's own accord.

Sorry. I'm so sorry. I would never be able to say it enough. Here's why I'm sorry.

Firstly because I heard about your parents, and I feel terrible. I broke down after reading your letter. I won't ask you if you're okay, or how you feel. Because I know you're feeling terrible and I know that you don't want to talk. That's okay, because I don't deserve an answer.

Sorry isn't enough for what I did on the night of our prom. I know it's the night every girl dreams of; every girl wishes to be asked out by the person they like and loves to dress up. But you're no ordinary girl are you? You weren't asked by the one you wanted ' me. Instead I was a jerk and asked another girl, hoping you would realize how hard I was trying not to lead you on. I'm an idiot, I'm a jerk. There are plenty of bad names that one may call me, I hope you are saying them in your head. And it's not like I deserve you anyways. So I'm sorry, terribly sorry for breaking your heart. I know you well enough, and I know after reading that line you wanted to rip this letter apart and throw it out. But just hear me out for some more time.

You have always wondered why I acted the way I did with you. Why I was so on and off, why I would act happy with you for one moment, and why I would ignore you the next. Well I will answer all these questions in this letter.