Married My Enemy (#1 Rajput)

32- Mental Asylum

The clown she (Jaanvi) sees in the darkroom.

Started Typing On - 21/12/2018 - Finished Typing On - 22/12/2018 (9.01 PM) (-I really like writing the exact time so please ignore.)

Chapter 32- Mental Asylum

She had closed her eyes shut. An attempt to calm down. Trying to slower her rapidly increasing heartbeats. She was so scared that she felt the urgent need to cover her petrified face with her trembling hands. She hoped the darkness would disappear and dissolve into light.

Like a ray of hope.

New beginning.

She expected the sun to rise upon her shaking body. She expected and prayed for too many things. Thing that'll change the current situation. Anything but this.

Jaanvi was locked inside a dark room. The only source of light was from the lamp. It shone bright yet dim, unfortunately, making the little clown look visible to an aghast Jaanvi. It looked real. So real. Enough to terrify her.

Jaanvi wasn't aware of the clown's presence though. Her eyes are covered. Her face is covered.

She was shivering. Unable to point how exactly, but she managed to remove her left hand from her left eye to get a peek around the room.

The first thing her eyes saw was the clown. The ugly clown with a big fat red smile on his face. Smiling at her. Directly. It was a dummy, though. Not a real clown. A dummy. Jai, her cousin owns it. Juhi's son loved clowns so much for some odd reasons, which is why, Ansh had gifted him a clown for his tenth birthday.

Her fear of clown grew few years ago. Years ago but yet it felt so raw and fresh. Like she's only just scraped her knee.

Who would guess the clown her father gifted her cousin with so much love will be the reason behind his daughter misery and nightmares?

"Chachi please!" She begged banging on the wooden door as hard as possible to attract attention. "I-i-I promise! I-I w-will e-eat it, i-I p-pr-promise" Jaanvi cries helplessly. Pleading with stinging tears and heavy eyes. No. Her eyes weren't heavy. They were paralysed with the image of that clown.

Her hands were tired but she kept banging the door. Not giving up too soon.

But the most stupid decision Jaanvi took was to look back. Glance at the clown.

She was greeted by a creepy big smile. Still the same. Even scarier this time, though. t

"Chachi please! P-plea-please! P-p-please!" She yells. Jaanvi had never felt so helpless. So helpless that even though nobody was watching her, watching her beg, she joins her hand, asking for mercy.

The fifteen-year-old sobs inside the darkroom.

She's never missed her father so much. He was at work but she wished he was home. Home to witness the torture his daughter was facing. Her mother. If her mother was alive this wouldn't have ever happened. Ever.

And Kiaan. Kiaan would tell his parents. Her father. First, save her, perhaps even scream at her aunty and then get help. Make sure this never repeats.

They're surely not friends but Jaanvi could always count on him for support.

But he left. He was in New York. So far away. Without a proper bye. He was probably sleeping right now or making friends, or studying or playing sports. He left and never called. Or texted. Or made himself feel alive to her.