POV : AARAV
13 June 2018
It was a day like any other, but it held a special place in our hearts. It was my mother's birthday. She never liked big parties or extravagant celebrations. For her, it was all about family, love, and togetherness. So, my father and I planned a small surprise—just a cake and a quiet family gathering.
As the sun set, casting a warm golden hue over our home, we brought out the cake. My mother's eyes sparkled with joy as she saw the simple, yet heartfelt gesture.
"Happy birthday, Mom," I said, giving her a tight hug. My father smiled, his eyes twinkling with pride and love.
"Thank you, Aarav. This is perfect," she replied, her voice filled with genuine happiness.
We spent hours talking, laughing, and reminiscing about old times. My father, however, had a meeting to attend, so he left after a while, leaving me and my mother to continue our conversation.
"Mom, I have something to tell you," I began, feeling a lump in my throat.
She looked at me, her eyes soft and encouraging. "What is it, Aarav?"
"I've been thinking about what I want to do after college. I know Dad wants me to join the family business, but I... I want to explore other options. I want to find my own path."
My mother smiled gently and took my hand. "Aarav, your father and I want you to be happy. Whatever path you choose, we'll support you. Life is about finding what makes you feel alive and fulfilled."
Her words touched me deeply. She always had a way of understanding my innermost thoughts and fears. We continued talking, sharing our hopes and dreams, and she guided me with her wisdom and love.
Suddenly, in the passage of our conversation, my mother's face grew pale, and she slumped forward. Panic surged through me. "Mom! Mom, are you okay?" I shouted, shaking her gently.
She didn't respond. I screamed for help, my voice echoing through the house. The household staff came rushing in, and we quickly took her to the hospital. My heart pounded in my chest, each beat filled with dread. My father arrived soon after, his face ashen with worry.
We waited anxiously in the sterile, cold hospital corridor. Time seemed to stretch endlessly. Finally, a doctor approached us, his expression grave. "Mr. and Mrs. Malhotra, I have some difficult news. Your wife is suffering from Stage IV Blood Cancer."
The world seemed to stop. The words echoed in my mind, leaving me numb and paralyzed. My mother, my rock, my source of strength, was fighting a battle we had never imagined.
Present
It's been months since that fateful day. Every moment since then has been a rollercoaster of emotions, hope, and despair. Today, I received a call that shattered my already fragile world. "Mr. Aarav, please come to the hospital urgently," the voice on the other end had said, devoid of any emotion. They didn't tell me what had happened, but the urgency in their voice sent chills down my spine.
As I drove to the hospital, memories of my mother flashed before my eyes. Her laughter, her comforting words, the way she held me when I was scared. I felt a knot tighten in my stomach, dread consuming me. "Please, God, let her be okay," I whispered, gripping the steering wheel tightly.
When I finally reached the hospital, I rushed towards her room. My heart pounded as I noticed the unusual absence of the guards who were always stationed outside her door for her safety. A sense of foreboding gripped me.
I burst into the room, and what I saw was devastating. The guards had been killed, their bodies strewn across the floor. And then, I saw her—my mother, lying lifeless on the bed, her body riddled with bullets. My world shattered in that instant.
"No! Mom, no!" I screamed, running to her side. I shook her gently, my hands trembling. "Mom, wake up, please. You can't leave me. Not now."
But there was no response. Her body was cold, her face serene as if she had simply fallen asleep. Tears streamed down my face, and I clutched her hand, the reality of the situation crashing down on me like a tidal wave. "Mom, please. I need you. Don't go," I sobbed, my voice breaking.
I remembered the last conversation we had. Her words echoed in my mind. "Life is about finding what makes you feel alive and fulfilled." But how could I find fulfillment without her? She was my anchor, my guiding star.
I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned to see my father, his face etched with grief. He pulled me into a tight embrace, and we cried together. The strong, stoic man I had always known was now broken, just like me.
"We'll get through this, Aarav," he whispered, though his voice betrayed his own uncertainty.
A sense of adrenaline surged through my body as I stood in the room, staring at my mother's lifeless body riddled with bullets. My voice echoed with rage and despair, "Who did this to her? I'm gonna kill that motherf*cker!"
My father, his face pale with grief, placed a firm hand on my shoulder. "Aarav, calm down," he said, his voice steady but laden with sorrow. "This is not the right time for this."
"How can you ask me to calm down, Dad?" I shot back, my voice trembling with anger and tears. "Someone murdered her! We can't just stand here and do nothing!"
"Aarav, listen to me," my father urged, his grip tightening. "We will find out who did this, but right now, we need to focus on honoring your mother and getting through this together. There will be a time for justice, but this is the time for family."
I took a deep, shaky breath, trying to rein in the fury and anguish that threatened to consume me. "I... I just can't believe she's gone," I whispered, my voice breaking.
"I know, son," my father replied, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. "But we need to be strong, for her, and for each other."
YOU ARE READING
𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐌𝐞
Storie d'amoreCollege, this is where Aarav and Bhumika's love story begins. Aarav is charming and full of dreams, while Bhumika is kind and creative. Together, they find joy and comfort, sharing laughs, late-night talks, future plans and a lot of passion. Their h...