Home?

AUTHOR'S POV

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The city was drenching in rain.Roads were jammed with vehicles. He watched as people were rushing to get back to their respective homes.

Home? Something he never knew existed.

That orphan age, where he grew up, was that home? Probably not. He never felt safe there, he never had someone to share his happiness, sadness or any feeling with. He never felt the care one feels at home.

The orphan age was merely a shelter for him. A rented room where he spent the eighteen years of his life.

A tired sigh escaped his lips as he took a drag of his cigarette letting the smoke burn his chest. That shit hurt the first few times he tried smoking but now he has gotten habituated of it.

Habit. One thing which can either destroy a person or build a person. He had so many habits. Bad ones to be precise.

Smoking, drinking, cursing, breaking things in anger and the list goes on. A girl came in his life and slowly became his habit. A good kind of habit. A habit which used to br