AISHA: The Cursed Name

Chapter -16 The Pendant

The Pendant

"Oh, no! Aisha! Aisha!"

He slightly moved to support her, placing her on his lap. One hand wrapped her in his arms while the other was behind him, helping him to get stable. He was afraid and concerned at the same time. A moment ago, he had witnessed something no Mayavi might have ever seen. But at the very same moment, he was holding the most beautiful and miserable pain in his arms. She was broken into millions of tiny pieces, so hard to pick up even one. She was crushed... dust... All lost. He had heard her. Her words were yet echoing in the stillness of the forest or maybe just in his heart. He was only trying to convince himself; she would be fine. But something was telling him, was yelling at him, that they just lost her. This truth, if true, is true, has killed her already. She is dead and gone. Only if she wants to live, she will still be dead in a moving body. He was looking at her, trying to read her face. Trying to collect as much as he could to return her. But... everything shouted that he would fail. And so would happen, no one collects ashes to revive someone. Since he was incapable of touching her, it was even more difficult for him to help her at that very moment.
"Now what? Aisha! Aisha!"

For a moment, he lost track of the events and looked at her face, thinking,
'How can a person show so many faces in just a few minutes? I saw her sad, angry, and weeping; however, the last one was mad. Has she been through so much that all she needed was a person she could burst out at? Her eyes, oh no! What was it?'

His cold expression faded away as he gazed at her face. Her fair skin was all flushed due to her boiling anger, closed eyes and calm, long lashes, her rose-red lips and dark hair loosely tied in a pleat. He relaxed and smiled,
'She looks so calm at this moment. As if all she needed was a peaceful sleep, and here she had it. She hasn't slept since she came here. Not even once. She sits all night on her windowsill, staring at the same moon I stare at all night. No matter if she is not sleeping but has collapsed yet, she looks so... Beautiful? Peaceful! Yeah, peaceful! What in the world are you thinking, Siddharth? Focus! Focus, boy!'

He tried to wake her up, but she lay in his lap like a breathing, dead figure. She was injured and was turning pale due to the cold, and her lips were slightly parted from each other through which, time and again, she took the air in and released out with a shrill, low sound. Her eyes were closed, and she had quieted her heavy breaths. He placed his hand on her cheeks to slightly make a vibration to wake her, but then,
"Ahh!"

He pulled back. He felt the spark again, and he sighed.
"This is so awful. What will I be able to do if I keep getting these shocks? Should I call the others?... No! No! I can't. What will I tell them, now? I can't carry her cause she sparks me. This will again fall on her. What will they do to her if I tell them what I witnessed? Isn't she already facing a lot?
No... They are her friends. They won't hurt her. But...what if they did? What will I tell about her being in this condition? God...!"

He was stressed. Stressed and yet calm. There was this girl in his arms, on his lap, unconscious, radiating heavenly peace in his arms. Her presence was pulling and pushing him away but still was capturing him safely. She was a dead soul in his arms giving him the peace for the entire life he lacked.

Soon he came up with an idea. He gently picked her up and avoided touching her skin. He walked under the open sky and soon started to hover in the air. He placed his hand around her waist and allowed the other to do the magic. Her head was gently kept on his shoulder and both her hands flung down. Red glitter erupted from his hands as they flew higher and higher. The magic, running from him into her made her light as a feather to hold on to.

In a few minutes, they landed in the school garden where Bani, Swara, Namrata, Ishita, the Professor of Meditation, Miss Travi and the headmistress had gathered.