Maddam Sir one shots

My blood is on your hands (2)

When a thread snaps there's a small sound and there are two halves left behind each in one hand and when it's connected again, it's left behind with a knot, a hard uneven thing which obstructs at every sew.
Trust is the same, it can be mended but it cannot be the exact it was before...

Haseena wonders if things could've gone differently that night, if she could've warned Karishma before they reached at that point where there was no return, quite metarmorphically and literally. She wasn't thinking straight, perhaps if she had just thought harder then maybe...
but trust was breached and broken now and she doesn't even know if it can be mended again, if Karishma would forgive her, if she would understand.

Haseena would accept anything if it meant to see Karishma again, infront of her, alive, breathing, not hurt albeit a lot, lot angry.

"Maddam Sir!!, Welcome back", Pushpa ji says with a smile though it never reaches her eyes, Haseena ponders if she knows, if any of them know what crime she commited that night, that since those fateful hours of darkness the guilt has eaten at her like maggots to flesh, her only reason that she hasn't resigned yet was to seek forgiveness from the one she hurt the most, to place the decision in her hands and to beg for a punishment and yet that person was nowhere to be seen.

"Thankyou pushpa ji, it feels really good to be back", it's easier to breathe here..

The halls are silent when she steps inside the clacking of her shoes the only sound that keeps her thoughts from straying away. There's a change in the air that's gnawing at her, she stops at Karishma's desk which is awfully clean for someone who's such a storm, she stares hauntingly at it the change in air feeling dreadfully like anxiety in her chest. A minute passes by before she releases a breath she doesn't realise she was holding in.
A few slow strides take her to her cabin, the team following her into the room.

"It was you who dropped all the evidences anonymously on the police' doorstep", wasn't it", Santosh Sharma rarely ever spoke without sounding like a chirpy little bird with all that enthusiasm packed into one lithe human, now it felt like all that joy and perkiness has left her being replaced by a sense of solemness.

"Yes", is all that escapes her, a little more than a whisper, a lot less than what she wants to say, a whole lot less than what she wants to ask.

Where is she?

"Hardworking people are always framed, always neglected, killed", Cheetah Chaturvedi states from where he stands near the doorway, it's the last word that catches Haseena's attention.

"Killed?"

"Yes Maddam Sir, killed", bitterness drips from his every word but Haseena doubts it's directed at her, she glance at him, his eyes are looking outside the window, gaze far away, it's like he's not even here, atleast not completely.

"The world is not a fair place, Cheetah", he snaps his gaze towards her, "and the police department is not for the soft hearted, we fight so that the country doesn't have to, we stay awake so that every family can sleep knowing they are safe, we die so that this country, the people and their loved one can live a peaceful life", she says softly, "we are here to serve our cause and our cause is the safety of our country not our feelings, not our life"

"And what are we Maddam Sir, are we not humans, do we not breathe, do we not bleed when a bullet enters our chest, do we not die!!", He's breathing fast as if the words have stolen all the air from his lungs, "no one sees what we go through, not ever our department cares."

"We are not puppets, certainly not the heartless ones"

She watches him with wide eyes, at his outburst, his eyes hold the grief of losing a loved one, her gaze slips towards others and there's that same grief and perhaps that's when it hits her, that anxiety in her chest, the feeling of uneasiness, that empty desk, the eerie quietness of the station.

"Where is She?"

"Maddam Sir?"

"Where is Karishma Singh, Pushpa ji?"

"You..you don't know"

"I don't know what"

"..."

"I don't know what!!!"

"Karishma is not here with us"

"That I can see, where is she?"

Pushpa ji meets her eyes and she can see it, the answer and it shatters her, shatters the bubble of lies and it breaks her down to her core.

"She's dead"

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Author's Note

I might like to torture everyone, especially Haseena 🙂

This is the second part of 'my blood is on your hands'
There will be one more part of this series with even more angst..

Enjoy y'all, also comment how was the chapter

Peace out!!