Chess & Checkers

17. Echoes of Pain

TRIGGER WARNING: CONTAINS MENTION OF RAPE, SEXUAL ASSAULT, AND DEPRESSION.

READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

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It had been about six hours when, around eight thirty in the evening, Meerab's consciousness gingerly tiptoed back to her, almost like a hesitant visitor. As her eyelids fluttered open, the world around her presented itself in a disorienting whirl, spinning around her like a carnival ride gone awry, giving rise to a wave of nausea. A dull ache pervaded every inch of her being, sapping her strength and leaving her feeling utterly drained. She felt as though her skin was on fire, each touch, each light rub of her bare feet or hands against the sheets sending a jolt of discomfort coursing through her.

With a soft, pained moan escaping her lips, Meerab battled against the heaviness in her limbs, each movement feeling like a struggle against an invisible force pressing down on her, pushing her back into the sheets, making it nearly impossible for her to sit up every time she tried. Every bone in her body seemed to protest, as if they were rigid steel rods corroded by time and neglect. When she finally mustered up enough energy to get up, a chorus of cracks and pops sounded from her protesting joints, each sound a testament to the discomfort that had settled into her very bones.

Her mind, shrouded in a thick fog of confusion, struggled to piece together the fragments of memory that danced just out of reach. Another moan, barely audible, escaped her lips, a wordless cry of anguish mingled with the frustration of her mind groping in the dark.

With a slow, deliberate movement, Meerab tilted her head back, a sigh of relief escaping her lips as her muscles protested against the strain of movement. Slowly, almost hesitantly, she allowed her eyes to adjust to the harsh glare of the light, each blink bringing the world into sharper focus.

And then it hit her, like an unexpected tidal wave crashing against the shore. As if summoned by some unseen force, clarity descended like a sudden storm. Memories, fragmented and disjointed, flooded her mind with a dizzying intensity. Images flashed before her eyes like lightning strikes, each one accompanied by a sharp pang of pain that threatened to split her skull in two.

"I don't feel well... What's happening?"

"Ruk jao! Tumhari tabiyat theek nahi lag rahi"

"Shahmeer..."

"Tumhe araam ki zaroorat hai, Meerab,"

"I want Murtasim..."

Murtasim.

With a sharp gasp, Meerab's eyes frantically darted around the room. It was Shahmeer's room, she identified by the solo portrait hanging on the wall. She had only visited his house a handful of times in the past, but had never stepped foot into his personal space until today.

Was it even the same day, she thought to herself, for in that moment she felt nothing less than a decaying corpse as every bone in her body ached.

Her purpose for being there flooded back to her consciousness then.

She had come to confront Shahmeer, to demand answers about why he was still in Pakistan, perhaps hoping that in her interrogation, she would find a clue to confirm Murtasim's suspicions about him. The last coherent memory she had was of questioning him, asking him why she felt like she couldn't trust him, probing into the depths of his true intentions. But beyond that moment, her memory failed her, seemingly blocked by an impenetrable barrier in her mind. Try as she might, she couldn't recall anything beyond those hazy, fragmented flashes.

A surge of heat flushed through her, her heartbeat quickening with each passing second. With unsteady hands, she pressed them against her flushed cheeks, trying to cool the feverish sensation spreading through her. Hastily, she pushed herself off the bed, nearly stumbling over her heels resting by the bedside.