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Tuesday 6:29am

Wounds.

They were everywhere. Everywhere her eyes travelled, everywhere they landed. Starting far off from north where her face was crowded with small marks that were painted in red to further south where Ibrahim's handkerchief still circled her foot, the wounds prickled at every inch of her visible skin. Arms, although a little safe, courtesy to the large sweater she wore, were still hurting a little too much because of the death grip of the man; the neck a whole different scenario all together.

The stunned gaze of the woman travelled all over her body, a large mirror embedded in the furniture and light reflecting from her pale face aiding to her as she studied herself with bewildered irises and numb mind. She had stood in front of a mirror only a few hours ago in her home, and yet, the two reflections, divided by a time of several hours, nowhere resembled each other.

Swollen eyes, parched lips, pale skin, dark circles - this Hemayal Khakwani was a different being all together. Wounds covering the face and collarbone where pieces of glass had previously prickled at were now turning a light shade of black and Hemayal could not control the sob that wrecked through her as she eyed her physical state in the mirror - the mental state was much worse.

The pit she had been falling in since last night seemed to have ended, all paths blocked, all tracks impassable. No thought seemed to grace her mind as she gazed at the woman in the mirror whose body was not the only thing that was harmed, her soul was equally battered. Storms of miseries and oceans of aches had hit her and she wasn't prepared. Allah, she wasn't prepared at all.

Only seeing a mere glimpse of Ibrahim Yazdani in the restaurant before had thrown her in a maze of confusions and pains, it was no wonder that last night was the worst she had ever lived through. Coming face to face with him out of nowhere, talking to him, being in his close proximity, inhaling his scent - it was a miracle she was even alive right now.

After so many years, she never thought, not even in her wildest dreams, that she would encounter him like this - bruised, broken and utterly dependent on his mercy. She never thought that after such a long time, Ibrahim Yazdani would do this to her - abduct her in the middle of the night; threaten her verbally; physically hurt her and scare her to no end. He should have been the last person on the face of the earth to have done any of that; but ironically, he was the first and the only one.

The last night had been heavy on her, too heavy; all her previous expectations were severely tattered and all her dreams were badly destroyed. The expectations she had flowered in the midst of her chaotic heart for this man were too many too count, too deep and every single one of them was wounded by his sharp words, merciless hands and ignorant actions. All of them wailed as they slowly left her heart, every one of them cried as they contracted to a bud.

After he had left last night, she had fallen down on the floor, eyes dried and soul empty. She had contemplated, deep and long, and every single one of her thought led to a similar conclusion - she would never forgive the brutality of last night; she would never forget the scathing words he uttered and she would always remember his merciless hold on her neck.

Ibrahim Yazdani could mean a lot of things to her before, but now, only a single thought stimulated her when his image flashed behind the curtain of her mind - a cold, merciless man who did not deserve Hemayal Khakwani's heart and the love that resided in it, a man who was not worthy of the thoughts that touched her brain when he was the subject.

Ibrahim Yazdani was a taboo for her before, now he had become a poison.

Hemayal was still standing in front of the mirror, motionless and unfazed when a slight movement made past the thoughts that occupied her mind and she shifted slightly in her place, suddenly alarmed. The small voices seemed to be coming from outside the door and the heart beat quickened as she turned around, facing the door which was being unlocked from outside.

Fear settling in her heart, she waited for the door to be thrown open, but the slowness with which the door opened after a moment made her stomach drop as knots tightened in it. Eyes wide, she waited for Ibrahim to enter the room, but this time too she was proved wrong as a middle-aged, stern man entered in her direct vision.

The stranger had had his hands dropped beside him as he regarded Hemayal with steady but distant gaze, his face expressionless that reminded her of the known stranger she had encountered last night. The man stepped inside the room a little before he coughed slightly and began the conversation, his voice unusually polite and reserved, but hard nevertheless.

"We'll drop you back." He uttered and Hemayal's eyes threatened to burst out of the socket as his words registered in her mind.

This was it?

Truth be stated, she had not expected Ibrahim Yazdani to let go of her this easily; she had not thought that he would free her after only a night in his captivity. The demeanor that the man radiated last night had crushed all her expectations regarding freedom, his actions and words were too brutal. However, the man who stood in front of her right now spoke otherwise to her thoughts and she felt the first bud of hope blossom in her heart.

"I'm..I'm free to go?" She asked, still bewildered, eyes still wide open.

"Yes." The man had not given away any expression as he saw the colours returning to Hemayal's face.

Hemayal, too astonished to make a move, looked at the man who had come with the news of her freedom with an air of relief she had not felt in a long time. However, it vanished all together when the man took a few hurried steps in her direction, causing her eyes to widen again and she stepped back quickly, a reflex that almost caused her to fall on the ground due to her injured foot but she knew how to keep her balance even in this pain, years of yoga finally paying off.

However, the man did not invade her private circle and stopped a good few metres away, instead producing a blindfold from his pocket and everything became crystal clear all of a sudden. Sighing, Hemayal knew she was too weak right now to put up a fight, knew that the man would be anything but careful of the wounds that covered her face, so she did one thing the man never expected of her - she extended her hand towards him, palm open and directed upwards.

This time, the man did give expressions of shock, but they were short-lived and he immediately handed her the black blindfold. Hemayal caught the blindfold in the palm of her hand, eyeing its creases with that of her own mind and sighed, a deep, troubled sigh that reverberated in the room.

Raising her arm and slipping the blindfold in front of her eyes, Hemayal secured it tightly at the back of her head and witnessed darkness again engulfing her. Breathing turning rapid and other senses heightening, she waited for the man to make a move, which he did, after a few moments.

Holding her by the elbow, the man tugged her forward and she limped in the direction of the door, pain suddenly shooting up all the way across her leg as she took slow and cautious steps, directed by the man's grip on her arm which did remind her of the atrocities of last night.

Every single step she took, every breath she inhaled, every beat she sensed reminded her of the brutalities of last night, where everything was done by a man she thought was her savior, by a man she thought would never hurt a single hair on her head.

Hemayal had lost count of how many steps she had taken when suddenly, a cold gush of wind hit her face and she breathed a good volume of fresh air, her lungs returning to life, her mind clearing. She had no idea where she was right now, no idea where the man was taking her, no idea if she could even trust this man.

But then again, if she could not trust Ibrahim Yazdani, there was no man left in this world she could trust. Ibrahim Yazdani had betrayed her, and no one's loyalty mattered any more.

"Where's Ibrahim?" The thoughts in her brain led to the question that slipped off her tongue, but she did not regret.

Absolutely no emotion resided in her at the, and in one way or another, she was glad of it. Absence of emotions is sometimes always better than an ocean of it, its deficiency always leaves behind less wounds than its abundance. A multitude of emotions, deeper than the oceans and higher than the mountains, never bring any good and scarcity of them rarely bring any harm.

This was the lesson she wished she had learned beforehand.

"He's not here." Hemayal had not expected the man to answer but he did and before she could find a suitable reply, she was made to come to a halt as the man's hold tightened on her arm, causing her to wince in pain.

Eyebrows creased, Hemayal waited for any movement, only the sound of the wind fiddling with her clothes and passing through her hair registering in the locks of her mind. After a moment, the hold on her elbow loosened, just enough for the pain to diminish a little before suddenly, she felt presence around her, of more than one individual.

"Get inside the car." A voice spoke close to her, making sudden goosebumps rise all over her arm and the back of her slender, but wounded neck.

The hand whose grip had not left her arm for even a second guided her forwards and Hemayal acceded without a single word, such was her hurry to get out of this place and the closeness of this man. Since last night, she had encountered her share of unknown men and right now, all she wanted was to crawl into her Dadu's arms and let all her pain and worries subside, to fall into a deep and peaceful sleep where no Ibrahim Yazdani could dare disturb her, to forget all about the haunting nightmare she had just witnessed.

Although with difficulty, she did manage to step inside the car, the black blindfold hindering to her actions but not preventing them. The man's grip on her elbow instantly vanished the moment she found the leather seat beneath her, her adrenaline rising as she heard the roar of the engine, followed by a large sound nearby that indicated the shutting of the door.

She felt presence of one or two men sitting opposite her, their slow breaths, icy contact and cold demeanor although filling her with dread but she was far too relieved right now to pay any heed. This was the end of a miserable night, a finale to a cold, frightening night that she would remember till death.

The car moved after a moment, and so did her heart which soared towards her throat, the pulse quickening and Hemayal swore everyone around her could hear it. The slow movement of the car first added to her anxiety but it was quickly diminished when a more pressing thought knocked at the windows of her mind - her family.

The thought of them had been filling her mind since last night, especially her Dadu. She could not even fathom the state they would be in right now, and she was not even sure what to expect. Everyone would be frightened beyond death, worried beyond measure - Dadu, Lala, Mehmal, and yet it was the thought of her father that made her bones chill - would he even be worried right now?

She knew that they had never been close, father and daughter, at least not since she can remember. Dadu always told her that she was extremely close to him when she was a child, but Hemayal found little truth and more sympathy in his words. Every memory that she had of her father was tainted by his bitter actions, distant behavior and cold demeanor. Even if there was at least a little truth in what her Dadu had always told her, she just could not bring herself to imagine that. For her, Shahriyar Khakwani would always remain as someone she had no affection for, no relation except that of blood.

A part of her knew the reason, a major part, but a small part also knew that it was no justification whatsoever. Whatever happened, however it happened, the beautiful relationship of a father and daughter should not have been bruised. But it did, it tore apart in the worst possible way and Hemayal would never be able to wail enough. After all, she was close to her father once upon a time.

After the incident and the ever heartbreaking event of her father's behavior that followed it, it was her Dadu who became her father, after her mother's death two years ago, her mother too, her best friend, her accomplice, her adviser, her listener. He became the center of her chaotic life, midpoint of something as troublesome as Hemayal Khakwani's mind. At this moment, she could safely say that if it were not for her Dadu, she would have long ago given up, long ago fallen flat on her face.

It was only because of that particular man that she even found a little strain of courage in her to breathe. Without him, Hemayal was absolutely nothing and she was well aware of it.

The ride back home, if it even was a ride, went by in sheer silence, with only the sound of the car running on the paved road tearing through it. Other than the smooth sound, it was largely calm and quiet, and in a way or another, it frightened her. It felt like the silence before the storm, quiet before the commotion and Hemayal Khakwani already had enough of that to last for a lifetime.

She knew she cannot handle more, she just cannot.

The car came to a screeching halt all of a sudden, throwing her off balance to the front for a second but she was already alarmed. Quickly straightening back in her place, she tightly closed her eyes behind the blindfold, the other senses kicking in as she observed the damp silence that enveloped her, followed not a second later by the opening of the car door, and it was adrenaline that once again rushed through her veins.

She was home.

She was dragged out of the car after a moment of complete silence, with only the heart beats sounding in her ears. Being forced to stand in her place, she again felt a hand grip her elbows but this time, she yanked it away with a force she had been gathering since the beginning. Hand instantly going to the back of her head, she untied the knot that had so safely performed the service of blinding her vision.

She expected the men to prevent her actions, but fortunately and surprisingly, she was met with no restraint whatsoever. With a single tug, the blindfold cascaded down her injured face, making the pupil contract at the sudden bright light it encountered and her eyes reflexively closed, the lashes uniting in an intricate mess.

Just as she was opening them again, the sound of the car coming to life resonated nearby and her head instantly turned around where she witnessed the sight of a black SUV speeding past the houses towards the end of the colony, and after a complete moment of stillness, it vanished out of sight, leaving Hemayal Khakwani standing in the middle of a deserted road, the sun readying itself to cascade its light down on the inhabitants of the world.

Dust swirled around her as she took a slow step forward, hugging her injured, shoe clad foot, sharp, searing pain shooting through her spine with each step forward towards her home. The men had dropped her off exactly opposite to where they abducted her last night and fortunately, her home was only a few metres away from where she stood right now.

However, a few steps and she knew that it would cost her every ounce of energy left in her to walk to her house, the pain in her foot intensifying with each step in that direction. Not only was she physically hurting, her heart was being pricked at continuously as she neared her house and the two combined only further sagged her shoulders in absolute affliction.

Limping across the road, she managed to reach her house in a few minutes and now she stood in the front of the large, sprawling house, her own existence feeling much too little as compared to the magnitude of the pain that encompassed her. Her foot was now throbbing painfully, the white handkerchief completely drenched in blood, every single thread painted red.

With the little strength that was left in her, she pushed the large gates open, the creak feeling like a gun shot in the stillness that surrounded the place. The gatekeeper was not present and the strange quietness that filled the house made her heart flutter as continuous impulses travelled up her nerves - where was everyone?

The question was answered a moment later, when she had almost crossed the garage, nearer to the wooden door that led towards the interior of the house as the door opened and Hadeed Lala walked out, eyes red but ready to head out somewhere.

The moment his eyes landed on Hemayal, they instantly widened, mouth falling open as he eyed his bruised and broken sister. Color left his face as he came to an abrupt halt, limbs frozen, actions prevented.

"Hemayal!" He breathed, a low sound in his throat that did not vibrate Hemayal's ear drum but she still understood the movement of his lips.

"Lala!" She whispered, tears forming at the sight of her brother, at the sight of a known person, at the sight of her family.

After what felt like an eternity, she was seeing someone she knew would not hurt her, would not betray her in the most inhuman of way, and the intensity of everything she had lived through felt too much, too huge a burden to carry on her weak shoulders.

Suddenly, all the weight seemed to crush her, the magnitude of the night she had just witnessed coming back to her in full force and her knees gave out, too fragile to carry the ache of her heavy heart. But before she could hit the ground, a gentle arm enveloped around her, pulling her to a warm chest she had so desperately longed for.

Hadeed Lala tightened his hold around her waist reflexively but the pain rose at every place he touched and tears she had been holding for a long time begun to fall down in a river of ache and miseries. She looked up at him, at the eyes that bore so much resemblance to hers, and smiled, and cried and did everything in between.

Lala straightened her up, helping her stand up on her feet, his eyes too stunned to leave her face, mind too bewildered to make anything come out of his mouth. He regarded Hemayal with an air of shock and pain and Hemayal knew she was home.

"Hami." Finally, she heard a voice, a voice she had so desperately longed to hear, a voice that had kept her going in the darkness of the world.

"Dadu." Hemayal turned towards him quickly, an action that made pain shoot through her as hundreds of desperate tears left her eyes.

Standing between the door was her Dadu, a wounded expression migrating to his face, intensifying with each passing second. Tears increased in quantity as they cascaded down her face, the warm water however prickling at the wounds that had brutally scarred her face. Hemayal saw as Dadu's eyes widened at her sight, at the horrific sight of his beloved granddaughter, and after a multitude expressions of anger, hatred, regret and a hundred more, finally one settled - sheer, deep, immense pain.

Hemayal saw as his face contorted in pain, eyes flinching, brows creasing, hand going to the heart. With wide eyes of her own, she witnessed Dadu's eyes closing, his limbs trembling and with utmost horror, she registered the sight of his knees giving out. Not a second more and Dadu fell on the cold, marble floor - never to stand up again.

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.... and I'm exceptionally sorry.

Although two updates in a week is kind of a surprise, but pardon me that neither happen to be quite happy.

What do you think? Do vote and comment!

Till next time,
Salam!