Maryam Chaudhary
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I emerged from the bathroom, Mama assisted me in changing my clothes and together we made our way downstairs. As we entered the dining room, I noticed baba seated at the table, patiently waiting for our arrival.
"Baba, aap office nahi gaye?", I couldn't resist inquiring.
A warm smile spread across his face as he replied, "Bina, aapse mile main gaya hu office kabhi?", his words were filled with affection, and kissed my head.
"Nahi", I said, my voice soft as I pecked his hand and beamed at him.
"Here is your breakfast", Mama announced, placing a tray laden with a nutritious meal before me. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, adding a comforting touch to the not to so morning routine.
"We're leaving for your aunt's house after breakfast", baba announced as he began his own meal.
I sat there, a wave of sadness washing over me. The thought of moving to a new place and visiting my aunt's family after such a gap, and the prospect of living in a strange environment seemed daunting.
Tears welled up in my eyes as I whispered to Baba, "I don't want to go".
"Don't cry", he said, gently wiping away my tears. "Trust me you'll love it there".
He handed me a glass of water and continued. "You're going to love your aunt's place".
Baba's words offered little comfort. Though he tried to reassure me with a smile. I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at me.
I stood up from the table and made my way upstairs to my room, my mind reeling from the news baba had just delivered. I had barely heard their voices calling me back, my thoughts consumed by a whirlwind of emotions.
Upon reaching my room, I closed the door behind me and collapsed onto my knees, tears streaming down my face. This was all happening because of Danish. If he had never entered our lives, we would have continued living the peaceful life we had before he came and shattered it all.
"I don't want to go", I mumbled, through my sobs, banging my head on the door in frustration. You might think I'm over reacting, but you don't understand. My aunt have two sons, and the elder one Imran, fills me with a sense of unease.
He gives me creepy smiles, and I can't shake the feeling that he's watching me. My parents use to visit my aunt's house often, but I always refused to go with them, opting to stay at Amna's house instead. I never told anyone about Imran's unsettling behavior, but now my parents are considering moving us in with my aunt, and the thought of living under the same roof as him makes me sick to my stomach.
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Allah hafiz 💕💕
🥀Faith is like a strange, unpopular restaurant filled with odd little waiters who brings you things you never asked for and don't always like🥀
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