[Comment,]

I walk out to see Abroo talking to him, and I promise myself not to eavesdrop. They deserve their privacy.

He is going to be mine, in the hereafter he is going to be mine.

I adore the neutral toned shawl paired with the brown sherwani he's wearing. The thick shawl compliments his broad shoulders so well.

It's so unbearable to see him listening to another girl, especially one I know he's almost been in a relationship with.

I ignore Abroo's smirk while she sips down the soft drink, and sit down on one edge of the empty third row.

"Sawera jaanam, I was looking for you." My eyes dart where the words come from and the dupatta I was fixing slips my hands.

I look down and continue fixing it, why on earth would he call me jaanam, did he just have a memory loss or something?

He takes the seat next to mine.

"You know you look gorgeous?"

The aunt sitting in front of us turns to look at us and then pretends she didn't hear it.

"Why'd you not wear the nose pin?" He whispers.

I shake my head, not knowing what to say.

I don't know what he's thinking but I'm about to spill a fountain down my eyes.

I try not to think anything and look at the stage but my peripheral vision catches Abroo looking at me.

There's Areeb next to her, both looking at us.

What—

I'm about to get up but he holds my hand as the night begins.

He holds my hand.

I look down.

I've not had this feeling in so long—

"Don't do this, it will be very hard for me to get over you once we get back on our separate ways." I sob and sniff my tear back before it rolls down.

"Oh so now Sawera suddenly cares about herself?"

My heart feels triggered.

Why would he say that?

I move my hand out of his.

Abroo's face is now dulled down and I feel sorry for her, she looks much better with Azaan.

I struggle the whole night, it seems unreal and uncomfortable.

It's not supposed to be this way.

My heart beats at an abnormal rate and I don't know what to do. I keep on checking my phone.

When the good qawaalis start I feel the urge to leave.

My whole life consists of an unlimited package of tears.

I silence the thoughts and go to my room.

I silently take the makeup off, concentrating on not thinking of anything.

I read the Quraan for a bit and go to sleep.

~~~

I try my best to stay away from Azaan for the rest of the functions.

On the baaraat's night, I go to my room but there's a baby sleeping.

A very small human being.

She's so tiny, I kneel down on the floor and admire her sleeping face.

I wonder what Allah has planned for her in life and pray for it to be the best.

Even if nothing else, I pray she has parents that love her.

I pray no such small tiny human being has to ever go through the ignorance of their parents.

Bhai was not even a teenager when he filmed one of the most heart wrenching videos I've ever seen.

He got a new camera and filmed me crying.

Not just a normal baby crying.

I was crying because mama hadn't been home in a week.

I couldn't digest any brand of powder milk.

I needed her.

And she didn't have time for me.

No matter how disgusting I am today, that baby did not deserve that ignorance.

It boils me to see this child alone in a house full of guests. I put two pillows on both her sides in case she wakes up and starts crawling.

I take a pen and a post-it and write down a note.

I pray your baby dies because she doesn't deserve such irresponsible parents.

I'm about to stick it on one of the pillows when I hear Areeb coming in casually shouting my name and the baby starts crying.

Her mum gets out of the washroom and I say sorry to her before taking Areeb out with me.

"Areeb, where were you?" I walk down the corridor to the living room with him.

"I was very much lost in your thoughts,"

I look up at him, entering the living room full of people staring at us.

"Sawera," he starts, handing me a bouquet of roses, "I've wanted to talk about this for very long, but I never had the chance. Now, in front of everyone, I would—"

"—Areeb, brother, very thoughtful but your sister doesn't really like flowers," I watch Azaan walk in between us.

Areeb stares up at Azaan.

Why is Azaan doing this?

~~~

There's no empty room in the house. When I can no longer control my tears, I rush to bhabhi's room.

I smile to Abyan and walk to a corner to wipe my tears while he watches cartoons.

After a while of crying, when I'm done fanning my cheeks, I turn around and see Abyan upset, sitting on the bed and looking at me.

When he sees me looking at him he comes and puts his tiny arms around me and I swear to God, I've never felt worse about myself.

~~~

I walk to the kitchen and see Ayesha holding the baarat cake.

"The fridge is full Maria, where do I put it?"

"Doosre floor waale mein shaayad jagaah ho?" Maria shrugs,

"Nahin nahin hai,"

"Toh fridge khaali karwa lo, do ghantte hi toh rakhna hai, walima bas shuroo hone hi waala hai,"

"Main rakh doon?" I ask,

She nods and walks to me, "Please,"

I raise my hands to hold the cake but Ayesha trips over a toddler's leg, my hands run to save the cake but it happens so fast, I ruin the frosting on one side.

Hearing Maria hurry towards Ayesha, I realise what I just did and while the toddler runs away and Maria helps Ayesha up, I put the cake down and watch the scene.

My heart trips with guilt, "I'm so sorry, are you okay? I'm sorry and I—"

"—The cake!" Ayesha yells and agony appears clear on her face.

I look at the cake, "I-I," my mind freezes and I watch her rush to the cake and look at it.

"Ya Allah, it's totally ruined. It took them six! continuous! hours! to make it the way Mirha wanted it. The function's about to start, what— what am I going to tell her?"

"I'm so sorry," is all that comes out of my mouth.

She tsks in frustration and takes her phone.

"Call them and tell them to have someone come and fix the cake," Maria tells her while I try not to tear up and make it all about me.

"No, I'll have to order a new cake, this one's become useless,"

I search in the drawers and pick a knife and try to fix it as much as I can.

I'm a fucking piece of shit, who said coming here was a good idea? I ruin everything, every moment. This was supposed to be Mirha's day.

Ayesha orders a new cake and tells them that it'll be okay even if it's only two tiers. They reply with "We don't have the customizations chit anymore. You'll have to detail how you want it to be."

Maria sits down and searches up baraat cakes on Pinterest.

I grit my teeth at myself as I fix the icing.

After around fifteen minutes, while she's still detailing, I lift the last swipe off the cake. The frosting's a bit thinner now, but it looks okay.

It doesn't look damaged anymore.

Um? Kinda looks okay?

Or maybe I could—

I think I should just leave. There's too much tension in this room, I can't handle it.

"WHAT? SAWERA? WHAT THE HELL?" Ayesha shouts.

Maria looks up.

My breath slows down, "No, no, it hasn't— we could use whipped cream on top—"

"SAWERA IT LOOKS PERFECT! IT LOOKS LIKE NEW!" She cuts the call and stands still to admire it.

She sighs and hugs me tight enough to suffocate me, "I love you soo much, thank youuuuuu!!"

A new air seeps into my chest.

It takes me a while to take in the words, and Ayesha and Maria adore the cake as if it were a newborn baby.

Mehjabeen comes in and Ayesha and Maria tell her how Sawera fixed the cake, they then proceed to ask me how I did that and that if I could do it why did I not tell them and save the worry?

Maybe if I put myself to use I'm not as worthless as I think of myself.

Something feels so off in the previous statement, and in the beautiful things they are saying to me. I don't really deserve them.

I ruined the cake.

I shake my head and leave, feeling a bit satisfied.

I look around for Abyan but Areeb suddenly pulls me to a room.

He looks angry in the beginning but smiles looking into my eyes, "Hey Sawera."

What way is this to greet someone?

He holds my back even when I try to push him away, "Hi Areeb, how are you?"

I didn't know after that conversation with Azaan he'd remain friends with me.

"Frankly speaking, I could be better. And you could help me with that." I get the tone and where it's going.

"No, um, I feel like, not really." I get out of his grasp but he steps forward when I step back.

"Oh, you sure could. If you wanted to."

I take a breath in when my calves hit the bed and I lose my balance. I sit down and shake my head, "No, please, Areeb, try to understand, I really," I softly push his face aside when he brings it to my lips.

He smiles and forces his lips down on my jaw, I try to slightly push him away and he looks at me with anger.

He's always been kind to me, it upsets me.

I'm doing him wrong.

He kisses my jaw unbuckling his pants and I get a really nauseous feeling when I hear it but I can't do any—

The scene changes. Completely.

I watch it dumbstruck as if it were an action movie. I don't even stop what seems like a strong man in his thirtees— Azaan? Is that Azaan?

My heart beats so fast I'm going to faint.

I watch the blood on Areeb's face yet he keeps on fisting him and I look away.

My mind works so slow, it's happening in real life and I could stop it but I don't understand that until two minutes later, when I panic to stop him but can't move out of my seat.

I feel this very often.

All of this could be nonexistent right now.

I watch him keep on beating him up and I want to stop him before he kills him but all I do is move my hands to him.

I want to touch him but what if it gets worse?

I feel horrible for being selfish but I'm afraid he might not look and accidentally whack me.

Or purposely.

He looks behind at me with his hands full of blood and I look at the door to run away but he paints my pink dress' sleeves with Areeb's blood and I scream and try to protect myself when he pulls me up.

He shakes my arm once to have me look at him, "Why'd you not stop him, Sawera? When you were clearly very fucking uncomfortable—"

I lose my hearing when my eyes go to Areeb. My heart stops.

"You hate fireworks, Sawera. You're forcing yourself to everything that you hate just to please others, why don't you force yourself out of your noxious comfort zone that has killed every happiness of yours,"

I watch the anger in his eyes,

"You're a fucking human being, everyone's happiness is not your responsibility look for your own fucking self because you really need you. Sawera, you need yourself. If you were the Sawera I first met you'd not have let this scoundrel even come close to you. Get the fuck out of these Areeb Abeers and focus on you, you have a lot to look for."

As woeful as it is, I try to process it all.

"What have... how will I live? How will I live the rest of my life knowing someone died because of me?"

He looks at me in confusion and I look back at the body. He's not dead? He is dead.

"You're just as sick as you were four years ago, if not more miserable. None of this has anything to do with you, Sawera. You've gotten too comfortable being the victim all the time. It's over. Face it."

"He didn't deserve that. He..." Azaan tightens his grip on my arm before I kneel next to Areeb.

"He got what Allah had written for him."

How's Azaan...

I watch how okay he is with the situation.

A soul was just raised up to the sky. Areeb has lost all ways to repent.

Is this the same Azaan I fell in love with? He was so gentle with me. How is this...

"You can't... You killed Cade, you killed Sasha, you..."

"I didn't kill Sasha."

"Azaan, Sasha died because of you," my heart aches as I think of it, "you were so unfair to her, to her family, she was the only one I could rely on at that time. She did what I told h... She died because of me. Cade died because of me, Areeb... What the fuck do you think of yourself? You're no God, Azaan. What the fuck... I fell in love with... Areeb didn't even do anything to you. I'm no one to you, you're.... Oh my God, are you even real? You're not taking responsibility of— you're not admitting to a murder you did in front of my eyes—?"

"—I'm not taking responsibility of their wrong actions. Sasha killed herself and I'm not to take responsibility of whatever was going on in her head. When she was appointed for work she knew the conditions. I was not to be nice with her after all of what she had done—"

"—Cade? He touched your honor— your, your dignity? But what— Areeb wasn't, I'm not your wife anymore. Azaan you've killed... I shouldn't have brought Areeb with me. It's my mistake, I should—"

"—Stop blaming yourself and giving yourself another reason to hate you—"

"—Then who do I blame! Who do I blame?"

"Sawera, he was misbehaving with you who else are you going to blame?"

"You're no one to take the law in your hands."

"What law are you talking about? Do you not see you're blaming everyone but him? If khudanaakhaasta anything happened you'd not even speak up. Sawera you don't treat yourself right. As stupid as it sounds, right now I wish I could take and keep your soul with me because I hate your mind. You won't let yourself survive, God, you're so cruel. Your soul doesn't deserve that mindset."

What is he saying?

Worst of all, why does he sound right?

I can't stand a minute in front of him.

What was that?

Why was it so relieving?

At a time when even I don't care about myself he's—

Ouf.

I'm not—

I call bhai and have my flights booked.

I can't think straight but the only thing I know for sure is that I don't want to be here because I'll develop a new mental illness.

I feel a sense of discomfort when I think that I left him to deal with the dead body all alone even though he was helping me, but then I realise that it's none of my business. It's not supposed to be a worry of mine.

He's responsible for Areeb's death.

This feeling is so alleviating.

He meant I'm not the worst person on earth?

God.

[voteee.]