Trigger warning: violence, sexual abuse, physical abuse, racism, substance abuse, and self-harm. The book is DARK, DARK, and DARK.
The book is complete.
HE WAS UNHINGED; SHE WAS HIS ELIXIR.
HE WAS ADDICTED; SHE WAS HIS DRUG.
HE WAS WISTFUL; SHE WA...
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(Author's note: The entire book is available on Patreon. Head to my Patreon account to read the full book, username: shaziyakhanwrites. Follow me on insta for fun reels of my books, username: shaziyakhanwrites. Any grammar or spelling mistakes, point them to me politely, thank you!) ~~
Like a blizzard he came into my life, just as hazardous and lethal, and swept away from me all things I once cherished. ~~
"Here..." Smiling gratefully at her mother, she took the glass of water from her hand.
Bringing her free hand to her face, she felt the wet streaks of her tears stuck to her face. She rubbed them away thoroughly from the back of her hand before taking a sip from the water. Her nightmares stuck diligently by the side of her bed, counting every nipping seconds, waiting, for her to lose all consciousness, waiting to come out and play. Now a recurrent event every night.
And all of those nightmares were remnants of him. He was the ultimate crafter of the nightmares that she just couldn't seem to get away from, no matter how hard she tried.
It is easier to fight demons in the state of wakefulness but when night transpires and sleep invades, all fight loses a person's body.
The images of him cornering her at every given chance, so confidently and brazenly, wouldn't leave her mind, wouldn't leave her alone. The images of his vicious glare. Lustful touch. Unfortunate obsession. They haunted her every night.
"Don't cry, love." She whipped her head to look at her mother, now sat across from her, on her bed. She didn't realize she had begun to she'd tears again. Feeling the touch of her mother's palm on her cheek, caressing her with such gentleness, as if she was afraid to break her, calmed her raging heart. But the constant play of memories in the back of her mind like a broken cassette was never coming to a sound stop.
"Soon, it'll all be over." Maryam nodded, praying in her heart that her mother's hopeful words come true. They had to come true. At all costs. "Once we are gone, so will the afflicted dread and trauma. I will get you all the help you need, in sha Allah (God willing)."
Her gaze shifted to the packed suitcases lying by the empty closet along with the few things they had bought during their time in Queensland, all wrapped up and stacked together, ready to fly. She let out a small whimper. They'd had so many dreams to accomplish in this new place. It had been such a great opportunity for them to succeed in life as well. They had left their home, so they could heal from the trauma of losing their loved one, but instead they were carrying back another set of pain and burdens to their former home.
"Your grandparents are excited to have us back, especially you. We can easily stay there for sometime until we find our own place. I know they won't mind."
