Trigger warning: mentions of self-harm and brief anxiety attack

The smell of rusty iron reaches her nostrils and the only thing keeping her from freaking out is the familiarity of all this. She lay on the ground as the blood trickled down her temple, wishing, vainly for this nightmare to end. It's not real, she knows. But it doesn't discount how real it feels.

An animalistic hand grabs her neck, yanking her almost limp body off the ground. Before the rod can dig a hole through her stomach, the monkey man-shikar- is falling on the dusty rooftop floor, bleeding.

Her legs give out and she crashes to her knees, staring blankly at the man she had grown attached to. The urge to reach out and shut his eyes that had lost the ability to show real and deep love gnaws at her.

But she can't lift her hand to do so, because Divya Shergill- Sharma is not a lucid dreamer.

---whitewash my sins---

The alarm blared at the witching hour. Divya swung her hand out in a well-practised motion to stop it from waking anyone else at home. House. This is not my home. She reminds herself sharply. She couldn't call the home of the person she killed on her own. It's a sin. The only reason she is here is because her older sister refuses to let her live on her own.

The son that was killed with my own bare hands. Her shoulders sagged deeper into the mattress, the guilt weighing heavy on her. There isn't a mirror in the room anymore. Every time she catches a glimpse of herself on the reflective surface, it makes her want to run away from these people who despite everything, shower her with love. Love I am undeserving of. These people whose son, nephew, cousin and brother she took away in a blink of an eye.

No matter what he did, he was a living being that she took the life off. He was dead and she was a murderer. There was no excuse.

She considered turning herself over many times. But what am I supposed to tell them? Hi, I killed my human turned monkey husband because he was trying to kill me and a bunch of people attending a seminar and for some reason, his body has not been found. Please arrest me. Besides, there was pishachini to be taken care of.

If euthanasia was legal, she probably would have done it by now. Because of guilt, not regret. The knowledge makes her sick to her stomach.

In her very sound and controlled mind, she charged at him with the intent to kill. She watched numbly as he dropped to the ground, eyes wide in shock of having the tables turned. She and arguably everyone else in that seminar wouldn't be in their beds safe and sound if that didn't happen. There was nothing to regret about it.

Divya was anything but ignorant. She sees the longing looks at the dining table the Shergill give the empty chair. The sadness in her former mother-in-law's tears is evident every time she walks by this room. The awkward silence that follows rakshit's incomplete snide remark at his siblings is deafening as they wait for someone to counter them. The house is quieter. "Shikar is not our real son", they constantly remind themselves. It's useless because he was still someone who was a part of their lives and they loved him. Everyone is grieving one way or another. She is guilty of all of their misery.

Yet, she still sleeps or tries to at least, in the room they once shared. It's painful to sit here and think about all the times Shikar made her laugh. The times he was supportive and caring. The times he expressed genuine concern. I think it was genuine. I guess I'll never know. The time she realised her feelings started becoming more than platonic. She sat up and leaned against the headboard. Her features hardened as she glared coldly at the spot where he sat and begged her to give their marriage another chance. And my dumbass believed him. The red painted nails dig into the skin of her palm in an attempt to feel anything but this anguish.

It seems stupid to sit in this spot and relive these moments. It's to take away the painful memories of hurt, betrayal, anger and to prove that I have moved on. She told herself and everyone else.

Before her self loathing could continue, the only one who saw through this reasoning, her sister walked into her room. Drishti clearly sees her little sister punishing herself for things that are not her fault. She glances at her clenched fists and sighs.

She misses the girl who would make everyone around her laugh, who would be optimistic in every situation, who would be mischievous and use her magic without giving it a second thought. The confident, fearless and impulsive Divya has been replaced by this one who constantly second-guesses herself, locks herself in her room all day and barely smiles.

Drishti hates the helpless feeling of not being able to take away all the hurt she was going through. Other than being there when Divya needed it, there wasn't much she could do.

Silently making her way to the bed, she wiped the single tear that ran down the younger woman's face. Divya blinks and looks at her sister. Frowning, she says, "it's late di."

"Well, a little birdie told me, I needed to be here."

"Oh," she mumbles.

Drishti waits. Come one divi. Give me a snarky comment. It doesn't come. "Wanna know which birdie?" she pressed instead, settling onto the empty side of the bed.

"sure."

"I named it twinstincts," she grabs Divya's hand, mindlessly drawing patterns on her palm. "It told me that a certain twin of mine needed me."

The brunette rolls her eyes, which Drishti can't see because of the dark. "Di, if this is about me cutting, it was once. It's not going to happen again. I am not a child that needs to be babysat." she gets out, heaving slightly.

"I never said that, divi," she replies calmly, used to her sibling's recently developed snappy nature. "And no this is not about that."

"Then what do I owe this visit at four am in the morning to?"

"To the fact that I love you. To the fact that no matter how much you try to push me away, I am still going to be here," she affirmed keeping her voice even, making sure Divya every single word.

The caring words only increase the pressure on her chest. Her lungs feel like someone is crushing them in a vice grip cutting off her oxygen supply. Shit. not now. Please not now. Breathe Divya. She continues trying to force the air back into her lungs as her brain works to remember how to breathe again.

It's too hot in the room. The sheets are suffocating. Get it together, Sharma. You are better than this. She tries to get out from under the messy piles of blankets only to land in a heap onto the cold hardwood floor. The room gets a tint darker and the oxygen is sucked out of the four walls.

I am going to die.

Backing up against the bed, she pulls her knees to her chest, rocking herself back and forward and tries to stop the onslaught of every negative thought she ever had.

I am selfish and worthless. Mom and dad would be disappointed seeing who- what, kind of a monster I have become. This is better. At least, the blackhole from their lives will be gone. The panicked girl stopped trying to fight back. She wants to resign to fate and while all these thoughts are plaguing her mind, there is a voice that reaches through. It's warm and comforting.

"Divi, look at me," Drishti begs. The moment she heard ragged breaths coming from her sister, her mind kicked into overdrive. It's not the first time. That doesn't make it any better. "Please. You are okay. You are going to be okay." she repeats finally gaining her sister's attention. Not wanting to startle the girl further she gently placed her hand on her knee, prying open her palms to reveal anger crescent marks in them.

Divya manages to register the owner of the voice, di. She clings to it and obeys whatever she is asked to do.

"Breathe with me okay? In... out...in...out," they repeat this a couple of times. "That's it, baby girl. You are doing great.''

Her vision returns to the normal tint of black and the pressure on her chest seems to be lighter.

Drishti waits patiently for Divya to gain her senses back a little more before carrying on with the process. "What are the five things you can see?"

"You, bed, lamp," she pauses looking around. "Fan and table."

"Good job, divi. Four things you can feel."

"Your hands, bed, floor, cold." she shivers slightly. The low temperature finally caught up to her and Drishti immediately moved closer.

"Three things you can hear."

Divya squinted her eyes, focusing on her hearing. "You, the bird outside, the cars going by."

"Nice. you are doing fantastic," Drishti gets them back onto the edge of the bed and keeping a hand clasped in the younger ones. "Two things you can smell."

"The chlorine in the pool outside. And the cinnamon candle."

"One thing you can taste."

"I am not eating anything," she mutters. Her breathing returned to normal. She is sure the next few hours are going to be a little better because of the sheer amount of exhaustion she is feeling. The new coping mechanism, exhausting herself to sleep, kept the pain at bay.

Drishti sighs in relief. "It's okay. You are okay." tucking a strand behind her twin's ear, she gives her a reassuring smile.

I am not! "I am tired. Good night, di." she slides back under the covers, Drishti following suit. For the first time in a while, she lets her big sister wrap her in a protective embrace. Silence takes over as they stare at the ceiling. "Thank you," she mumbles a while later.

"Anytime." Drishti grins already half asleep.

The widowed keeps her eyes open. It was times like this that she wished her powers included psychic abilities. maybe then she could manipulate her dreams to have a happy ending.

At least she could live her nights in peace after a day filled with the haunting of lovable memories.

A/N: Dont forget to vote and R&R!