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Kriti's POV~

"I'll kill her soon"

It elicits a harsh pain in my chest as I read these texts.
Uneasiness rushed over me as I thought of my sister.
Her face flashes in front of me and her memories cause an imperceptible restlessness in my veins.

"You should've told me about it papa"
I blurted out.
"Did you let me know about it?"
Papa reciprocated.
"I was about--"
He cut me off in between.
"It's okay, Do not worry about it"

"He threatened you before me.
Right??
That's why you called me here back?? Am I right papa??"
These words burst out of my mouth as I heard him.
Why didn't he tell me the reason?

"We'll talk about it later" Papa stated as he walked out.
"Please. do. Not."
I replied with a heavy heart.
I do not want to talk about it.
Never...

Seeing your sister getting shot in front of your eyes, constant medications for 2 years, scars, nightmares, hallucinations of dying, insomnia for a year and anxiety, delusions of extreme danger and paranoia.

What could probably be worse than this for a 12 year old?
Still a perfect smile adorns my face and I am proud of it.

I hate getting flashbacks from things that I do not want to remember, it makes my heart drop.
I took a look at the broken vase and made my way towards my room.

I threw myself on the bed, too tired to be awake but couldn't get away with my overthinking.
I wasn't able to sleep because of the threat I received.
Fear was evident on my face. I didn't realize until how late I wasn't able to sleep.
.
.
"Kriti, get up"
I was awake by my mumma's voice.
I got up only to realize that it was 12:00 PM.
Fuck. It's too late...
I freshened up and got down for breakfast.

I was moving down the stairs going through my phone but then I suddenly felt a chill, making me shiver.
I just went back and slipped a shirt on top of my tank top to ward off the cold
As I ventured back down, I noticed a familiar figure sitting on the couch.
What the fuck is he doing here?

What the fuck is he doing here?

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