Kashish

CHAPTER : 10 - HAEMOPHILIA.

Chapter : 10 - Haemophilia.

"I'm sorry."

I muttered and ran towards my house and as I reached the doorstep, I noticed my parents' car wasn't in the drive way. But as I came closer to the door I realised it was unlocked.

But mom and dad aren't home.

I took a few careful steps inside and my heels clicked. The only sound was of my black stilletos clicking on the dark marble floor. I walked curiosity riling up in by body. And I took a turn to the dining area my heart jumped.

With a click of my heel, I backed away bumping my hip into the dining table and I supported my paled body with my hands gripping it. I breathed heavy and I could hear my shallow pants and the rapid beats of my heart.

"Oh my, my. Don't you look ravishing, my little Rose?" My heart started thudding voilently as it wanted to escape my chest and I placed one hand over it to calm myself down, while other gripped the edge of the table as it was the only support my body had.

"My beautiful, delicate niece." She tsked as she walked with a glass of scotch in her hand. I shivered as she took loud uneven thudding steps towards me and I panted.

"Kashish, Kashish, Kashish." She said and my eyes teared up as she grabbed my face with her free hand and crushed it. A tear fell from my eyes on the back of her palm and she smirked.

"Aww, you're crying my sweet doll?" She said crushing my jaw harder digging her nails in my cheek.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to beg. Beg to let me go. I wanted to run. Run for my dear life and hide somewhere. Somewhere, I couldn't feel this pain. But, I can't. I can't run. Or I can't beg. I can't hide from her. Or from the truth. The past.

No matter how much you run, your past finds you. One's past is inevitable. Mine is too. I can't forget it. Can't free myself from it. And I don't want to. I don't want to free myself from it. I'll get my share of pain. My share of suffering.

"You know, you are very beautiful Kashish. No one would believe what's under that beautiful face." She chuckled. Her chuckled vibrated in the whole house. And my heart almost burst.

"This face of yours Kashish! This bloody face of yours ruined my life! You stole my life from me! You bloody bitch!" She dug her nails harder and pressed her fingers together to open my mouth.

"You made me a mess! I'll fucking ruin you!" She said and poured the stinking golden brown liquid into my mouth and I choked as it burned my throat. Her grip tightened and I gasped for air but I couldn't breathe.

"I wished you burned to ashes a long time ago! But I wanted you to suffer! I want you to fucking suffer all your life for what you did to me! I want you to pray for death." Her laughter crackled. And I felt my head spin.

Death. Suffering. I've known it. I've seen it. For a past few years I've encountered so much of death and suffering that I just cannot measure how much of it. And there's so much yet to come.

I've done something, and I pay for consequences. This pain, I accept it. Aunt Meeta, isn't wrong. It's me who ruined her. And I suffer for it. For what I done. If I've given a chance to live, I'll live. If I'm given pain for what I did, I'll take it.

"If you weren't born! Anything wouldn't have happened. The day you stepped into our lives, you ruined everything!" She said as she choked me and I looked her with tear strickened face.

"You bitch! I lost my love! My everything because of you!" She punched me with the jug of water. My lips felt numb with pain and hot red fluid dripped on the back of her palm. The glass hit the floor and shattered into tiny sherds. She pushed me to floor and wiped off the blood on her hand with a white napkin and tossed in on my face.