I woke up feeling different. There was a lightness in my chest, a strange surge of energy that made me want to move. Yesterday had been a whirlwind of emotions, filled with conversations that ranged from supportive to frustrating. But after the long talk with Mum last night—where she reassured me that no one could force me into any life I didn't choose—I felt… free. Free in a way I hadn't felt in weeks.
I stretched out, my limbs relaxed against the soft sheets. The room was bathed in golden morning light filtering through my curtains, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I didn't wake up with an instant headache at the thought of dealing with nosy relatives.
With a renewed sense of purpose, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood up. "Alright," I murmured to myself, "time to get moving."
Instead of lounging around for a few minutes, I immediately grabbed a hair tie, pulled my hair into a loose bun, and made my way downstairs. The familiar scent of morning spices and sizzling parathas greeted me as I stepped into the kitchen, finding Mum already immersed in her routine, carefully shaping the dough and flipping breakfast on the hot skillet.
She looked up, surprised to see me so early. "Meher, you're up already? You usually stay in bed longer after exhausting days like yesterday."
I smiled, feeling a rare buzz of energy. "I woke up feeling good, Mum. I figured I should help out—besides, if I don't, I'll end up getting dragged into something chaotic again."
Mum chuckled, shaking her head before gesturing toward the counter. "Alright then. Here, help me set the plates. The dining table needs organizing before everyone piles in for breakfast."
I got to work immediately, pulling down the plates, setting them neatly onto a large tray, and carrying them out into the dining area. The morning felt oddly normal—like any other day before relatives had come to stay.
That sense of calm didn't last long, though. As I placed the plates down, I noticed something unusual—the relatives were already dressed up, their bags lined by the entrance like they were preparing for a departure.
I frowned, wondering if I was imagining things. Leaving? Were they… finally leaving?
The thought barely had time to register when Mum walked in behind me, noticing the same scene. Her brow furrowed slightly. "Oh? You're all dressed up so early?"
One of the aunts, sipping on her morning tea, smiled warmly. "Yes, we're leaving today, dear. We've stayed long enough, and it's time for us to head back."
I felt my heart nearly burst with unfiltered joy. I had to stop myself from visibly celebrating on the spot. Leaving. The word was the sweetest thing I had heard in days.
As if sensing my barely-contained excitement, Ilyas and Darius entered the dining area at that exact moment. Their eyes swept over the scene, and I saw the same realization dawn on them—the suitcases, the packed bags, the cleanly pressed clothes. It was happening.
Darius grinned widely but quickly masked it into a polite nod. "Oh! That's, uh… too bad. You'll be missed," he said, making an exaggerated effort to sound sincere.
Ilyas—ever the composed one—simply folded his arms and nodded slowly. "Ah, well, it was nice having you all here," he said smoothly, but I could see the flicker of relief behind his eyes.
I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing at how obviously we were all trying not to look too happy about their departure.
Breakfast was unusually lighthearted, almost hurried—perhaps because everyone, including the relatives, sensed that their visit had finally run its course. We ate, chatted, and exchanged formal pleasantries about how wonderful it was to spend time together (even though I knew that, deep down, my siblings were aching to speed things along).
As soon as breakfast wrapped up, the goodbyes began.
Each relative approached to exchange hugs and handshakes, promising to "visit again soon"—which, while polite, still made me inwardly scream *please, not too soon!*
Ilyas and Darius played their parts well, nodding and responding with just enough enthusiasm to seem genuine. I followed suit, smiling and bidding farewell while secretly counting down the seconds until I could disappear into my room and finally breathe.
And then, like a miracle, they left.
The front door clicked shut. Silence stretched across the house.
For a few seconds, none of us moved.
Then, as if choreographed, Ilyas, Darius, and I turned to each other at the exact same time.
"They're gone!" Darius whispered, his eyes glowing with sheer delight.
Ilyas dramatically placed a hand on his chest. "What is this feeling? Is it *peace?* Is it *freedom?* I can barely remember what that's like."
I let out a breath, placing both hands on my face and mumbling, "I think I might cry from happiness."
The three of us stood there for a moment, reveling in the newfound tranquility that had settled over the house—until Mum walked in with an amused look.
"Oh, you three," she said, shaking her head with a knowing smile. "It's not that bad having them around."
Darius groaned. "Mum, they followed me around! I couldn't even breathe without being asked a thousand questions about everything I did!"
Ilyas snorted. "And I had deadlines! I had work to do, but no one seemed to care about that."
Mum sighed and patted my shoulder gently. "Well, at least they're gone now. You can all relax and do whatever it is you were planning."
That was all the confirmation I needed to *bolt* upstairs and finally get some research done.
Once I reached my room, I wasted no time settling in. Today, I was determined to get a proper head start on studying the requirements for different study-abroad applications. I pulled out my notebook, flipped open my laptop, and began scanning through articles on profile-building, academic qualifications, and financial planning.
For hours, I typed away, scribbling notes, bookmarking resources, and comparing university expectations. I was so focused that I didn't even realize someone had knocked until the door clicked open.
I looked up to see Ilyas standing there, holding his laptop with an excited grin.
"Meher, it's time," he declared, stepping inside. "The prototype is finally ready."
I immediately straightened, eager to test his latest work. "Really? Show me!"
Ilyas placed the laptop in front of me, booted up the system, and clicked on a sleek interface displaying an interactive storyline. "You remember how I wanted this game to have an adaptive narrative, right? Based on choices, the player experiences different paths, difficulties, and character arcs."
I nodded. "I remember! So, what's new?"
Ilyas tapped a few keys and motioned for me to test it myself. "Try playing. Let me know what works and what doesn't."
For the next twenty minutes, I explored different story choices, watching the protagonist navigate a world influenced by every decision. The system had an impressive flow, but I noticed a few things that could be fine-tuned.
Just as Ilyas was scribbling down my feedback, Darius bounded into the room. "Ooooh, is this THE prototype?" he asked excitedly.
The three of us burst into laughter, sharing a moment of relief after the weeks of exhaustion. We chatted about the game, about our future plans, and about finally being able to breathe without interruptions.
Just as we were deep into discussion, Mum's voice called from downstairs. "Lunch is ready!"
The three of us exchanged glances, knowing today marked the true return to peace.
And with that, we closed the laptop and walked downstairs together, ready to enjoy a meal without distractions.