Aadatein | An OS Collection

2- Bin Tere

Trigger warning: mentions of blood, cutting and major character deaths/disturbing themes even though mentioned as non graphically as possible

"I'm getting tired even for a phoenix
You might just have dealt the final blow"
(You're Losing Me, Taylor Swift)

The knocks on the door remain frantic and incessant but he can't bring himself to care anymore. Tears flow down his eyes and there's no amount of blood he can bleed, enough to bring back what he has lost. All his life, he has allowed them to punish him for the mistake of being born when he should have rightfully died with his mother. All his life, he has allowed them to snatch every bit of him- his innocence, his childhood, his dignity, all for the selfish hope that they would forgive his unworthiness and grant some sort of love. He's only ever yearned for that one caress of love that he's seen others around him get. All his life, he's allowed them to burn him to ashes, rising again by covering all his wounds in a belief that they would be gone someday. That they'll stop hurting and haunting him someday. All his life till she came, the moon shining in its zenith while her craters bled and he found a kindred spirit in her. She was the only one who saw through the façade he had to play in front of the outer world, who saw his scars, his treacherous pain and the yearning which never learnt to abate. What else was he supposed to do except hold onto her with all his might? All his life he has functioned according to them, killing all thoughts and needs of freedom whenever they would rebel within him. He wasn't born without a spine, he just learnt to butcher it to death. But with her, his soul slipped past the rusted iron chains and soared the sky. In her arms was his haven. In her eyes was everything that he had craved for. With her, he bloomed alive. With her, he mattered. He felt seen, worthy. She became his everything. 

The knife in his hand cuts deeper but he can't feel it. He can't feel anything except the enormous hollow in the place his heart is supposed to be. They have snatched many things from him and he's forgiven them for all of it. But he can never forgive them for snatching her away. He has survived everything they have thrown his way but this is the final blow. He just can't take it anymore. He lifts the knife and aggressively cuts again, wailing his grief. His breaths have long ceased to come easily. The gush of blood has no effect on him, neither does his fading vision and consciousness. He has screamed his throat hoarse, her name on his lips every time they ever managed a coherent word. The last time he held her in his arms refuses to leave his sight and mind- the smile frozen on her face stained in blood, the warmth that was always in her completely eradicated. He screams, one last time, his grief erupting and consuming him whole. He will not let that form of her be the one in his memories. He will not live in a world that has had her mercilessly eradicated. He will not breathe another breath of the air that her killers are now breathing. 

The screams and howls outside exacerbate at the precise moment he lifts the knife again, like they know what's happening but he doesn't care. He smiles and stabs the blood soaked knife through the empty place where his heart once rested.
_

The world is startlingly white when he opens his eyes. It takes him a moment but then he is up at his feet, frantically looking around. The world of utter ugliness cannot be bathed in the holy white glow so he hopes he is where people reach after death. 

"Armaan" her voice is soft and soothing, like it has always been and unlike the last time he heard it, all raspy and broken. He spins around to see her, his angel, bathed in the white glow enhanced by the white dress she is in. His eyes fill up, his smile threatens to split his face and he's running to her, his Abhira, who stands there with her arms open. The force with which he holds her is too much but neither care because she hugs him back just as tight. Their love, in this realm where everything begins and ends, burns bright.

--the end --

Love,
Pratyusha