Aap Koun Hai? PT 1

Yay I almost Died😁

Before I knew it, a rough body thrusts me flat on the cold gold floor. My spine shatters into a million glass shards and my heart drops into the pits of my stomach. My mind's thoughts jumbled , barely processing the scene.

All I can hear are the muffled screams and a few more faint gunshots, but it doesn't quite reach my ears.A sharp pain rings through them. It's like I've been drowned under water.

My vision is just as bleak as my hearing. I can't decipher the face above me, I do notice however that they are shielding me, their body shaking to hold up as they hover over mine, hair tumbling down their face, clenched fists on either of my sides

And then in a sudden rush, like water squeezing through a tight pipe, it all returns to me. my hearing and visions return to normal again.

Looking down at me, I recognise the face, it-it's Vihaan?

I don't know what to think, my head is too light to process all this. But still I pinch my eyes, Is it really him?

And suddenly glass breaks to my right.

My head tilts only to find that a bullet had gone through the window, rupturing it, causing a massive hole cracking through its panes..

The glass pieces fly through the air and slice skin. I wince in pain as they pierce my sides and wrist.

I notice the cuts on Vihaan's wrist too, but I am too constricted to even move and soothe my own. I don't know what to do.

Am I going to die?

Vihaan's face is oiled with sweat, his eyes squeezed shut and little marks of red fleck across his cheek. Why is he even here? He shouldn't be here. He shouldn't save me by risking himself.

My eyelids are heavy and I wish to forget all this and succumb to the dizziness penetrating my wall of will.

No.

We stay rooted in this position for a while, unable to move properly.

After a long pause the gunshots cease , and when it is sure that the shooter has stopped, the security gives a little yelp to him, and Vihaan slowly climbs up again.

His engulfing shadow leaves mine. Immediately, I am hit with a sudden force of light from the amber chandelier.
I squint my eyes and allow my head to fall on its side on the hardness of the ground

The guests have gotten on their feets again, their faces sagging, gleam knocked out of their eyes. Their dresses are torn, crumpled-dotted with blood.

My chest dips in and out, and the weight on my eyelids intensifies.

Through the pain, the last person I see is my father, who slips out the crowd just as seamlessly as he had slipped in, I focus on him. Does he see me?

I hope he does, I hope he comes and asks me if I am alright. If I am hurt.What I need.

How I crave those questions to be asked right now.

However, there is something else my eyes catch in him, something far from affection.
His hands are locked behind him. They are tight and curled-holding something.

I zero in on the object.It is black and has a rod.

My mind clicks on the idea of building up a gun.

My father is holding-hiding a gun. And then a terrible, horrendous, wretched, awful idea creeps in my thoughts. Is-is he the shooter?

Before I can think about about it anymore my world fades to a deathly, dark I try to fight I try to figure out what's going on
But I have no more energy.