Meri Musibat [Tere Bin FF]

15. 22, 25 - Part 3

A/N: Hi everyone! I know this chapter is a bit late but I have been a bit under the weather lately and have managed to now catch some respiratory ailment. Thank you for all the funny and thoughtful comments on the last chapter. I know a lot of you had questions about what was happening with Murtasim and the mention of jail, etc, but we shall find that out in due time. For now, here's the next chapter, I hope you all enjoy it, see you on the other side. Also, I am dozed on painkillers so this chapter is not edited as heavily as I usually edit, so excuse that :)

-----------------------------------------------------------

Black. The world was black.

Meerab knew something was wrong. Deeply, unsettlingly wrong. A sensation that nudged at the edges of her consciousness, whispering of danger and despair.

She needed to open her eyes.

But her eyelids felt heavy, weighted down by an unseen force. Resisting her every attempt to lift them, to break free from the engulfing blackness.

A part of her longed to escape the darkness, yet another part craved the comfort it brought, a refuge from a reality she wasn't ready to face.

Cold. She was cold.

A bone-chilling cold that seeped into her skin, numbing her senses, stealing her warmth. It enveloped her, a frigid embrace that left her shivering in its grasp.

And wet.

She felt drenched, her clothes clinging to her body. A sense of dampness surrounded her, a moist earthiness that filled her nostrils with the scent of rain-soaked soil.

Heavy stuff.

Something was pressing down on her, a weight that pinned her down, unyielding and oppressive. It bore down on her chest, making each breath a struggle, a fight against the crushing pressure.

She needed to open her eyes.

The thought echoed in her mind, a mantra repeated over and over.

But she didn't.

Instead, she let herself slip away, retreating into the comforting arms of unconsciousness.

Colder. It got colder.

The chill deepened, spreading through her, a creeping frost that threatened to consume her whole.

Hours.

It seemed as if hours passed as she teetered on the edge of consciousness, the allure of slipping back into the comforting void tugging at her senses.

And yet, amidst the cold and the darkness, there was a flicker of warmth. A distant call cutting through the fog.

Murtasim.

She heard him, yelling her name, his deep voice a beacon in the dark. "Meerab! Meerab!" The sound resonated, reverberating through the void.

His voice echoed through the murky haze that clouded her mind.

Thirty-four times he called her name, each utterance more laden with emotion than the last. Thirty-four distinct echoes of desperation and concern that seemed to penetrate the veil of darkness enveloping her.

She tried to respond, to acknowledge his calls, to let him know she could hear him, that her wouldn't open, that she was cold and drenched, that there was something pressing down on her chest, making it hard to speak. But her lips felt sealed, unyielding, refusing to part despite her best efforts. It was as if they were bound by an invisible force, rendering her mute and helpless.