𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐀 : 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐄 | 𝟏𝟖+

CHAPTER 34

𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂 - This chapter contains a graphic depiction of childbirth complications and infant loss. The scene may be distressing or triggering for some readers.

Reader discretion is advised.

𝘼𝙐𝙏𝙃𝙊𝙍'𝙎 𝙉𝙊𝙏𝙀 - The following delivery scene you are about to read is a REAL LIFE incident that happened to my grandmother during the birth of her first child when she was 16 years old.

Unfortunately, her firstborn didn't survive, and this is how her deceased baby was taken out from her womb.

This experience was shared by many women at that time due to a lack of medical care.

This chapter is DEDICATED to her and women like her.

________

The weather outside had started to turn ominous, with dark clouds gathering overhead, threatening to unleash their burden at any moment.

Inside the room where Tara lay, the group of women, assistants to the head midwife, moved with increased urgency.

"Ask them to bring a tub of warm water boiled with neem leaves. We need to clean her," the midwife ordered firmly, her voice cutting through the tense atmosphere.

One of the women nodded and swiftly left the room to relay the instructions. Time was of the essence, and every action needed to be executed with precision.

"Crush those leaves quickly and prepare the paste. And you, make the herbal drink fast," the midwife directed, her instructions clear and concise.

The women responded with practiced efficiency. Some hurried to prepare the neem leaf water, ensuring it was at the right temperature to soothe and cleanse Tara's body after the traumatic ordeal.

Others set to work grinding the neem leaves into a paste, their movements deft and purposeful.

In another corner of the room, a fire crackled beneath a pot of water, where herbs simmered, infusing the liquid with their healing properties.

The aromatic steam filled the air, mingling with the earthy scent of neem.

Outside, the first drops of rain began to fall, tapping against the windows and roof with a soothing rhythm.

Inside Tara's room, however, there was little respite from the tension that hung thick in the air.

The midwife continued to oversee the preparations, her brow furrowed with concentration.

She had seen countless births and tragedies in her long career, yet each one weighed heavily on her heart.

As the women worked diligently, their movements synchronized in a silent dance of care and compassion, they offered silent prayers for Tara's recovery and solace for the loss that had befallen her.

The room filled with the scent of herbs and the sound of whispered prayers, creating a cocoon of support and healing amidst the storm that raged both outside and within.

" Daima, the water is ready " said one woman.

The midwife nodded solemnly and retrieved a clean cloth, soaking it in warm water.

As she approached Tara's vulnerable figure, her heart sank at the sight before her.

Tara lay naked and unconscious, her body bearing the brutal marks of her ordeal. Blood seeped from between her legs, a stark testament to the violence she had endured.

Handprints and burn marks from red-hot knives marred her skin, vividly illustrating the torment inflicted upon her.

Internally, the midwife cursed the merciless perpetrators, her anger and sorrow intertwining into a silent prayer for justice.