Talk Of The Town ✔️

24

Words hurt. It pains more when that someone is blood-related.

Anya avoided everyone, sticking to her bedroom or the rooftop, her most cherished space in the house. Her appetite is all over the place. She is consuming more pills than food, drowning them with a whole litre of water.

She has no clue who entered her house or left at what time.

It was Wednesday afternoon, and after eating a cup of noodles, she decided to raid the cabinets for some potato chips. The hunger is getting to her now. Junk food and snacks are her answers. Halfway to the kitchen, she eavesdropped on her mother talking to her aunt Mariam.

"Everybody is repeating the same thing. Emre discovered her true face before anyone else. We all blamed that poor boy for leaving Anya. It turned out our apple was rotten from the core."

"It's unbelievable how we all forgot to demand Emre the truth. Anya turned everything against him. She cornered and lashed out at him in public. If he said something against her, no one would trust him."

"My daughter is a liar and a manipulator. When that boy Noah befriended her, we thought she could have a second chance at life. He gallivanted with her, or she played with him. Anya isn't serious about anything. They were kissing in front of our lawn in the rain."

"She has no shame left in her. I became speechless when you told me she was doing television ads as a new job. Why this when she could do something better?"

"She wanted more access to boys or celebrities. This socialite thing grew. She needed connections to tarnish our reputation. Do you know how many people have cancelled us? Anwar is getting angrier day by day. It's good Anya doesn't appear in front of us, or this house may soon become a crime scene. She is disgusting."

"I'm sorry, Madiha."

"We are usually booked in December. Now we are fixing messes, replacing printers, and changing potted plants because people have peed in them. We are painting the side walls since some punks have sprayed our daughter's name alongside slut. She is messing up, and we are suffering. We never refused her anything, Mariam. I keep wondering where we went wrong."

"Maybe she projected the anger and grief of Emre leaving her into fame and party – her way of showing she can get anyone she desires."

"Who would desire her after she showed her true colours? She should marry a foreigner. Leave this country. Then, we'll find some peace in our lives."

At first, Anya took two slow steps backwards. The heavy weight of the nagging words pressed on her chest, suffocating her. She couldn't breathe the air in this house. She turned and ran outside.

Tears flowed without restrictions. Memories flashed. The happy days, the bittersweet days and the solemn days – a dreadful reminder of the love she had lost. The fast world blurred around her as she drowned in grief.

She can't take it anymore.

She wasn't strong enough.

Sobs erupted from her sweaty and aching body. It's unfair. The sorrow followed like her shadow.

All of this for what if she had lost her parents' love, trust and respect.

Thousands of miniature knives punctured her heart, cutting deep with every beat. Gasping, Anya stopped. She was clueless about her location until a loud honk came on her left. She twirled, hair flying in the air. The car headed straight at her.