Diving into my past

Three years ago, I started my writing journey. It wasn't to gain attention or to write a novel that would become wildly popular. I started writing because I wanted to relieve my anxiety. Experts say your first draft will always be imperfect, messy, and scrappy. They were right. Some readers made fun of me because of my poor writing, and some encouraged me to keep going. Because of them, I've become a popular novelist. Some authors even pay me a lot of money just to edit and write their stuff.

Although I have a lot of money—something my current family isn't aware of—and other income sources, I never gave up writing because it literally keeps me breathing and sane. But everything has an end, so I have to give up writing now. I'm literally addicted to it.

Looks like I have to head to Chottogram tonight. I already booked the bus tickets online, so now I can relax a little bit.

It was already evening, and the sun was setting. Noor was standing in front of the window, watching the sunset. It really feels weird, isn't it? For the past three months, I've switched off my phone and haven't stepped out of my house or touched grass for a single day till now. I ordered everything I needed online, and that's all.

All I did was stay awake every night, writing, just getting four hours of sleep every day, eating, bathing, and working out. My neighbor was right—I've been living like a ghost here. Although I made a lot of money from writing, I've literally been addicted to it for the past three months.

My current life condition is like my first draft: bad, sucks, has no meaning, no goal, no ambition—literally nothing. Those medicines my doctor gave me? Lol, he'd kill himself if he ever found out how much I've been consuming in a day.

My body doesn't work like a normal human's. I'm a lot stronger, which is why the medications haven't affected me much. But I'm still human.

Four years ago, I started losing my past memories slowly, and till now, they've become completely blurry. Though I remember every person related to me and everyone I've met till now, I can't remember some memories with them correctly.

Every night, I try to sleep as little as possible because those forgotten and blurry memories keep haunting me in my sleep over and over again. But now, I've decided to let it go or confront it for real. I'll try to remember everything if possible, to see what I really forgot, even if I have to endure the same pain again.

I was talking to myself again, wasn't I?

Oh, shit! It's 7 PM. The time is literally running. My bus is at 9 PM, and I also have to pack my stuff and hand over the room key to the owner.

Noor starts packing his belongings as fast as he can, then takes a bath.

"Should I make something to eat or…" he mutters while shifting his gaze to the clock. It's 7:50 PM. "No, not enough time for that."

Noor takes his luggage and his bag before leaving his room. He turns to the room and says, "Well, thank you for everything. I know you don't have life, but still, thank you. I've lived here for three months peacefully without any problems. The apartment is now like my own house, and now I'm never going to come back here. So, goodbye."

Noor locks his door and heads for the lift. Again, he sees the same neighbor in the lift.

"Do you live in the lift or something?" Noor asks the neighbor.

"Well, finally, you talked normally! Haha, but that was a really bad joke, though. Don't mind it—it's just a compliment. But hey, I thought you were an introvert, haha," the neighbor says while scratching his head.

"Well, I'm not really sure about myself. I'm really bad at jokes. But wait, what's your name?" Noor asks.

"It's Sam, bro. Haha, wait, wait—are you going somewhere?"

"Your name sounds like a foreigner, but it's cool. Well, yes, I'm heading to my hometown—permanently. So, goodbye," Noor replies.

"Ooh, well, goodbye then, homie."

After shaking hands with Sam, Noor heads out from the lift and sees the owner there.

"So, you're going to your hometown?" the owner asks.

"Yes, uncle. I'm not going to come back here, so goodbye and pray for me," Noor replies.

"Well, be safe then."

After handing over the apartment keys, Noor stands outside, waiting for the taxi he booked. When the taxi arrives, he gets in.

The driver starts driving, and Noor stares at his watch. It's 8:30 PM already.

"It's quite funny. I've been living here for a long time, but I only know two people. Sam was a really nice and naive guy, though."

When he reaches the bus terminal, he sees the weather is really bad—like it's about to rain very heavily.

"Wait, what's up with the weather? It looks really bad," Noor mutters.

The air is very cold, and a heavy wind is blowing, giving him goosebumps.

"What was that feeling? That must be my bus," Noor thinks as he gets into the bus and sits in the seat located at the back.

All the passengers are already in the bus because it's almost 9 PM. But suddenly, everyone's attention shifts to the TV in the bus.

**Breaking News: Severe Cyclone Approaching Bangladesh**

A powerful cyclone, identified as Cyclone Akash, is rapidly approaching Bangladesh's southeastern coast, with meteorologists predicting it could make landfall within the next 24 hours. The Bangladesh Meteorological Department (BMD) has issued a red alert for several coastal districts, including Chittagong, Cox's Bazar, and Barisal.

According to BMD officials, Cyclone Akash has intensified into a Category 3 storm with wind speeds reaching up to 120 km/h. Heavy rainfall and storm surges are expected to cause significant disruptions, particularly in low-lying areas near the coastline.

"We urge all residents in the affected zones to take immediate precautionary measures," said Shamsuddin Ahmed, a senior meteorologist at the BMD. "We are monitoring the situation closely, and evacuation plans are being put into action."

The government has mobilized emergency response teams, while the Navy and Coast Guard have been deployed to assist with evacuations and ensure maritime safety. The Ministry of Disaster Management has also begun distributing emergency supplies, including food, water, and medical kits, to affected areas.

Local authorities are advising residents to avoid coastal areas and low-lying regions, as storm surges could lead to flooding. Fishing boats have been instructed to return to port, and all flights to and from the affected regions have been temporarily suspended.

As the storm approaches, many people in the region are preparing for the worst. "We've seen storms before, but nothing like this in recent years," said Akter Hossain, a fisherman from Cox's Bazar. "I've already moved my family to a safer location."

Meteorologists are urging residents to stay updated on the latest weather reports as the situation develops. The cyclone is expected to weaken slightly as it moves inland but could still cause widespread damage, particularly in terms of flooding and power outages.

Stay tuned for further updates as Bangladesh braces for the arrival of Cyclone Akash.

Some people panic, while others take it lightly. Noor doesn't care much about it. It's really common to see a cyclone every year, two or three times. The reporters must be overdoing the news to go viral.

But the feeling and goosebumps Noor got earlier are quite unsettling.

"Is something going to go wrong?" Noor mutters.

Suddenly, a paper ball hits his head. He immediately notices a girl, around six or seven years old, has thrown it. She giggles and hides behind the seat.

Noor gets a little irritated.

"Sigh… kids nowadays."

It's past 9 PM already, and the bus is heading to Chottogram. The air is cold and heavy, and everything outside feels so silent.

"Should I try sleeping? It's literally more than a nine-hour journey. Maybe I should try sleeping," Noor thinks.

Noor closes his eyes and falls into a deep sleep.

---

"Wait, where am I? This is something new."

Noor finds himself sitting in a white room.

"Did I get kidnapped or something? My hands aren't tied, but I can hardly move. Wait a minute—I can still hear the bus sound. That means it's a dream."

"Well, you finally realized it," a voice says. Noor gets shocked after hearing that voice. He sees a boy, around six years old, standing on the right side of him.

"Who are you?" Noor asks.

"Who am I? Can't you recognize yourself?" the boy replies.

"Wait, what? Where am I?" Noor asks, confused.

"You're literally inside your brain, and I am your subconscious mind—or your childhood memory. This is just a place you created inside your mind long ago. Don't worry; you'll remember soon."

"Oh, so you're my child version? I see. Are we going to face our nightmares together or something?" Noor asks.

"It's literally you, not we. I'm not real. I'm just your subconscious mind, and I have those memories you locked away long ago to avoid your trauma and suffering."

"I thought it's gonna be some dual or multiple personalities thing, like we see in movies, anime, or comics and novels," Noor says.

"It's not like that, dumbass. Can you stop being delusional?"

"Delusional? Ha, lol, haha," Noor laughs out loud. "That was really the funniest joke I've ever heard. I've seen a lot of people on the internet posting about their imaginary lives or fantasies in their heads, where they live happily with their loved ones who aren't real. They reject this dark, disgusting, pathetic, broken reality, and they're happy with it.

"They know the person they love in their fantasy will never be real. They don't see the person in real life, nor can they ever be together, but they're still okay with it. At least they're happy—that's all that matters, right?

"In my life, I only thought about love once—just once—but I was really an idiot back then. And now, while most people live in their imagination or fantasy, I live in an empty void where my painful memories keep haunting me. I just don't want to run away from them anymore. I just want to end this once and for all. And I want my memories back. I want my innocence back. I want everything back that I've lost. I want it back!"

After yelling all of this, Noor finally stops.

"Well, we're the same person. I exist because you wanted me to. I am those voices you silenced long ago. I can't give you anything but your memories."

"Then be it," Noor says.

"As you wish," the child version of Noor says.

Suddenly, the surroundings change. Noor feels like he's narrating his own story and watching it from a third-person perspective. It's like someone wrote Noor's story and made a movie out of it with his memories.

"It's really strange," Noor says.

"Are you ready for it?" the child asks.

"I am," Noor says.

"Then let's go."

Everything turns black.

---

"Noor means light."

That's right—that's the meaning of your name.

When I was six years old, I asked my mother about the meaning of my name, and she told me that.

I was loved by my parents because I was their only child. What can a child expect from their parents? Love and care—and I was blessed with that. Everyone used to love me.

But…

When I turned seven, I learned that my father and mother's marriage was against my father's will. He was forced by my grandparents to marry her. My father was in love with another woman, but because he was scared of my grandfather, he never dared to talk about it.

My father used to say these things when my mother wasn't around. But was it really necessary to say these things to your child? Who knows?

My mother was also loved by my grandparents because she was the beloved daughter of my grandfather's friend.

But…

Slowly, the relationship between my parents became toxic. They often fought without any reason.

I also learned something heartbreaking.

My parents had a first child before me—my brother—but he died in a car crash along with my maternal grandparents. His body was never found. My father always blamed my mother for my brother's death because she let him go with my maternal grandparents. But who knew this could happen? It was just an accident.

When my parents had me, they were really happy because I was really beautiful and cute. My mother chose to give me the name Noor.

My father was a well-known architect, and my mother was a fashion designer. She always kept me with her because she was scared of losing me.

My dad showed my grandparents a reason to move away for his job purposes, but he had other plans. Despite being married to my mother, he was also in a relationship with the woman he used to love. And somehow, my mother found out about this.

I still remember that night when my mother slapped my father in the face, and she was crying. My father got embarrassed and left without saying anything. What could he have said? Nothing.

---

After some time, my mother's friend came over. Her name was Lisa, I remember.

"Esha! Why are you crying? What happened?" Lisa asked.

"Nothing," my mother replied.

"Oh, your son is really cute. Look at his eyes and face—he resembles a little fawn."

"Lisa, I need to talk about something with you. Come to my room."

"Okay," Lisa replied.

While they were having a conversation, little Noor peeked from the door to hear what they were talking about.

"Look, Esha. Despite what your husband has done, you're still going to live with him? He's a cheater and a characterless person. Now you've even caught him dating that woman," Lisa said.

"But my son—he has no clue what's going on. I can't… I can't just leave him. He has a bright future ahead," Esha replied.

"But still, that doesn't change anything. You can take Noor away from that cheater and raise him."

"Noor loves his father a lot. He can't live without him. If I take him away, it will cause a negative effect on my child," Esha said.

"So, you're going to suffer? What if your son becomes like his father or something worse when he grows up?" Lisa asked.

"No! My son will never be a bad person. He will never…" As Esha began to cry, mentally breaking down, little Noor ran to her.

"Ma, why are you crying, Ma?"

"Nothing," Esha said.

As Noor began to cry while watching her cry, Esha rushed to him and hugged her son tightly.

A couple of days later, my father begged my mother for forgiveness, and he came back home. But it was never the same after that.

As some years passed, my parents' relationship deteriorated. They quarreled and fought constantly. It was becoming increasingly hard for me to live a normal life. I felt suffocated. They could have just divorced; it would have been so much better. I wouldn't have had to witness their fights, their cursing at each other right in front of me.

It became so bad that even in my school, everyone knew about the relationship between my parents. Because of that, I never had any friends in that school, and everybody made fun of me—even the teachers.

Though my mother took good care of me, it was quite visible that she was mentally broken because of the situation. Every time they talked, they would fight over little things, especially my mother. I didn't understand then why she did that, but now I can. Nothing hurts more than your loved ones betraying you.

Eventually, my parents stopped talking to each other altogether. While I felt temporary relief, I was also sad. My classmates bullied me for the toxic relationship between my parents, and because I was a good student, they were also jealous of me. It was shameful for me to know that the entire class was aware of my family's situation.

It became quite normal for me to see my parents stop talking to each other. Both of my parents would spend their time outside to avoid confrontation, and I had to sometimes stay in the house alone, even at night. At first, I was scared, but later, I got used to it.

The toxic relationship between my parents already hurt me a lot. My mental and physical health collapsed. I also lost a lot of hair at an early age. My face began to look weird because I wasn't eating properly.

I remember reading a quote in a random book: "Parents should never fight or quarrel in front of their children. Not only does it mentally traumatize the child, but who knows? They might carry that trauma and pain for the rest of their lives."

The bullying at school also never stopped. They often locked me in the washroom from the outside. Sometimes, they poured dirt and water on me without any reason. I complained a lot to the teachers, but they barely did anything about it.

When I turned twelve, I finally got to say goodbye to that dreadful school. My father transferred to another district for work. He was an architect, so moving was quite common. However, my mother refused to come with us, claiming she had important work to do as a fashion designer. She was also working on a big project, so she promised to visit me often.

With no other choice, I had to move in with my father. After we arrived there, my father said he couldn't take me with him, so he chose to leave me at his distant relatives' house. At first, I thought he was joking, but something was seriously off about him…

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