Ishq hua

Chapter 6: Shattered silences

Aira:

I couldn't stop shaking. The moment I shot him, actually shot him is still playing in my mind like a nightmare that won't end. He was bleeding, my hands stained with his blood, and the sound of the gunshot echoed in my ears, refusing to fade. I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I didn't want it.

And now, I was stuck here, waiting.

Waiting for my parents, waiting for an escape, waiting for anything to save me from him.

But nothing was coming.

He has bound me to this outhouse, refusing to let me step out or even his family see me. He told them I was not feeling well at all so we will be staying at outhouse to give me some space because that's what I wanted.

The thing is I need space from him.

His family is actually very sweet. It was already the third day so he had recovered pretty well but no one came respecting my wishes.

What a god damn lair.

Oh god if they found out I hurt him, they will hate me too.

According to what he told me, my parents will reach India today so we will have tomorrow's breakfast at the mansion with them.

The room felt suffocating, cold. The air itself felt like it was pressing down on me, making it hard to breathe. I stood by the window, staring out at the darkening sky, praying for tomorrow morning to come sooner. My mind kept wandering back to the gun, the blood... the twisted satisfaction in his eyes even as he bled.

I should have left. I should have run.

But I couldn't.

I don't even know how I was able to pull that trigger. I didn't want to hurt him at all but I should have run when I had the opportunity because now he was adamant on making me see hell.

The strange thing is I regret shooting him more than staying.

"Are you just going to stand there?" His voice cut through the silence, sharp and bitter, pulling me back to the awful reality. "Or are you going to help me?"

I turned slowly, my body stiff with fear. He was lying on the bed, his hand pressed against the bandage I had changed earlier. His face was pale, but his eyes those cold, unforgiving eyes were locked on me, full of that same terrifying control he seem to have over me.

He is wrong though. He has no control over me. I only helped him out of humanity because he refused to let anyone else know and was hell bend on dying if I didn't look after him.

What a psychopath.

"I don't want to help you," I said, my voice barely above a whisper, "Why don't you call that doctor back?"

His lips twisted into a cruel smile, and he shifted slightly, wincing at the pain. "I already told you, Aira. No one else is coming. If you don't take care of me, I will die."

The threat hung in the air between us, and I could feel it settle into my bones, heavy and unbearable. The weight of what I had done, of what he was forcing me to do, was too much.

Does he have no conscience at all?

"I didn't want this," I whispered, shaking my head, tears welling up in my eyes. "I didn't mean to shoot you."

His laugh was bitter, cold. "But you did."

He knew how much guilty I was of physically harming him even if he has somehow done worse than that and yet he was using it against me.

He is using my fragile heart against his cruel one.

He shifted again, groaning in pain, and I could see his dressing really needed a change. My stomach churned at the sight, a sickening reminder that this was all my fault. But I didn't want to do this. I didn't want to help him.