The vivid reds in wedding symbols of celebration , Happiness and Joy . But what will happen if the same red colour change into the colour of blood betrayal and the symphony of despair.
Meera sweet little innocent girl end up being the pawn in the d...
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The world around me dissolved into a surreal blur. The vibrant reds and golds of the wedding mandap, once so bright and festive, now seemed muted and distant, like colors bleeding into water. My mind struggled to catch up with the horror that had just unfolded. The deafening bang of the gunshot still echoed in my ears, drowning out the frantic murmurs and screams of the crowd.
My heart pounded wildly, a frantic drumbeat that seemed to reverberate through my entire body. Each thud felt like a desperate cry for understanding, for some sense of reality to anchor me. But reality remained elusive. All I could see was Raghav, lying motionless, his blood staining the white marble in a grotesque, spreading pool.I tried to move, to speak, but my body felt heavy, unresponsive.
The festive flowers that had once symbolized joy and new beginnings now seemed to mock me with their stark contrast to the tragedy at my feet.
I felt a scream clawing its way up my throat, but it was trapped, stifled by the lump of terror and disbelief.Faces blurred past me, distorted by my tears. I could see the shock mirrored in their eyes, hear the panic in their voices, but it all felt distant, like I was watching a nightmare unfold from behind a glass wall. My breath came in shallow gasps, each one a struggle against the suffocating weight of the moment.
This was supposed to be the beginning of a new chapter, a day of celebration and promise. Instead, it had turned into a scene of unspeakable horror, a tableau of shattered dreams and spilled blood. My heart ached with a raw, unbearable pain, and as I looked at Raghav, lifeless and still, a part of me shattered irreparably.
As the chaos around me intensified, my mind replayed the horrific scene in an endless loop. Amidst the shattered fragments of memory, one detail stood out with unnerving clarity. Just before the gunshot echoed through the mandap, I had seen a shadowy figure lean in close to Raghav, whispering something in his ear. The moment was brief, almost imperceptible, yet it lodged itself firmly in my thoughts.
The figure's face was obscured, their identity hidden in the shadows cast by the flickering flames of the ceremonial fire. Their presence, now seemingly sinister, sent a chill down my spine.
What had they whispered to Raghav in those final moments? The question gnawed at me, amplifying my confusion and fear.
I replayed the scene over and over, each time hoping to catch some detail I had missed, something that would make sense of the senseless violence. The whisper seemed to hold the key, a clue buried in the chaos.
But no matter how hard I tried to focus, the words remained elusive, drowned out by the deafening gunshot and the ensuing pandemonium.My heart raced, a wild drumbeat of panic and dread.
