Fading In The Sun

Chapter 1: Rising Dusk, Falling Dawn

"Doctor!"

This wasn't supposed to happen.

"What's the situation?"

Her slightly tanned hands were not supposed to be covered with the blood of a stranger.

"Ran over by a car."

Her eyes were not supposed to be attacked by the offensively bright hospital lights.

"Pulse?"

Her nostrils were not supposed to flare at the sickening sterile smell of medicines and disinfectant.

"Heart Rate?"

Her eardrums were not supposed to cringe at the orders the doctors barked at each other.

"She's going to be okay, girls."

A woman, her nemesis's mother as she came to know, was not supposed to be wheeled into the hospital on a stretcher and into a surgical theatre.

---Fading In The Sun---

She had heard stories of how the world was an unfair place from her aunt while growing up. A reflection of the unjust world. She believed it now. No matter what one does, someone always gets hurt, even if they were innocent. She wanted to save the puppy and while it worked; another person bore the brunt.

She was the least proud of the person the restroom mirror was showing. She wished this regret and guilt could be channelled in a snowglobe- it could be shaken up, looked at from every angle and allowed to settle to gather dust. That was a fantasy- a fallacy of will.

Riya Abhishek Prem Mehra was a self-centred snob. A person that cared about no one else but herself. A spoiled rich child that didn't realise how privileged and fortunate she was to have everything she ever desired at her feet without having to lift a finger. One that didn't give two hoots about anyone else's feelings.

What a lie.

Rhea was all of those things to the cruel world she found herself living in. When they decided that she wasn't anything but an arrogant spoiled child, she proved them right. Some was a facade, some wasn't. In hindsight, she should have fought harder to retain her kindness and altruistic tendencies.

It made the nurture vis a vis nature debate a whole lot interesting. Was she a product of being raised by people who couldn't see the past status and power or a product of the genes her father and mother gave her? Probably both. My dad is an ass, my mother...who knows? And my family never seems to descend their high horses.

Somewhere in between, she found her own forte. A place where she didn't have to pretend to be what her family and people at school expected her to be. Where she could discern right from wrong. She knew her family was far from right. So in this self-built fortress, she can be Riya and not the person they raised to be - that person should not exist.

It was moments like this that made her dislike the person she was- the real person she was. It would have been easier to really be all those things people thought of her. Contrary to rife belief, she was a human and part of being said species was having a conscience. Right now, her conscience was anything but a silent spectator to her actions. It screeched ceaselessly in her ears, reprimanding her disgraceful actions.

Riya washed the blood as best as she could off her hands and neck. It was slow and gentle before she started digging her nails in and dragging them across her skin mercilessly; scrapping until the sting was felt by her nerves. If she didn't have low pain tolerance, she wouldn't have stopped. One more reason to hate me.