I wasn't going to post but since I promised yesterday, I had to. It's a sort chapter because it's late night over here.
Ps, for all those who 'love' Rashi and Jay, you'll hate me by the end of this book because oh boy, oh boy, I'd make them suffer. Lol, it was planned since day one of this story!
Started Typing On - 20/03/2019 (10.38 PM)
Chapter 84-Twisted Mind
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Author's Pov:
The only voice they heard being spoken was Jaanvi. The only heavy breaths they heard were Juhi's. Safe to say, they all believed Jaanvi except for Juhi's family. After all, they couldn't imagine their mother, his wife being a murderer. To an extend her grandma was angry. Jaanvi was angry and broken but the old lady couldn't quite work out why she'd talk like this-like addressing elders with their names, calling her uncle an 'old man,' if only she felt what her granddaughter went through all those years.
For a moment, it wasn't about her mother's death. It was about the lies she's been fed of eating her mother alive. Of living in fear of being locked in the dark store room with that dummy clown. Of just blaming herself for everything that had happened.
"Why?" It was only her tears that were keeping her soul alive in the furnace of her pain. Of this pain. Her pain couldn't extinguish what had been done years ago, yet it only carried her forward until the time comes when the searing pain is distance enough for her to forget more than she remembered. Maybe one day, one day when she's old, or-or when she's happier it might erase itself from her brain.
But the scar. The scar in her heart-the hole would always remain. It was like erasing your dark writing on the white piece of paper, it does erase, but the outline of your writing is still there. You can still feel and see that you've-or someone else had erased something. It leaves a mark-an evidence to remind you, that once something was written over there.
She should be proud of her tears, proud that she was still an emotional person. After all, her tears were the one saving her from becoming a monster. A heartless monster. A person indifferent to suffering and sorrow could do the best thing, the smartest thing by crying. They say crying is like pushing away-throwing away all those negative feelings, ideas, emotions which just wouldn't stop building up. Tears are known to help us relax, maybe that's why people cry a lot.
Maybe that why women-females are emotional. Perhaps that's why men-male cry in darkness. We all cry, but some just tend to hide it. If only they knew how badly it was just increasing the pain.
She wanted to stop it. Jaanvi wanted to stop looking so pathetic, so vulnerable. She wanted to look dead-serious, scary and someone they all hated. She didn't want to be loved, there was no space in her heart for love now. Her heart was claimed by hate and anger. It only got worst.
She didn't care if her parent-in-laws were judging her loud, horrifying and broken sobs. She didn't care about her husband's siblings-Kajal especially, watching as she fell on the floor, her saree now damped from the knees because the floor was wet due to the juice spilling. Her friend was no new to this. She'd had her number shares of witnessing Jaanvi's breakdown throughout her life but today was different. But it wasn't nice. They were still tears-just worst.
Jaanvi didn't care about her grandma's opinions, her cousins, her uncle, her father or even her husband. She just sat there, on her knees as the cold juice touched her inner skirt under the saree, she should be shivering from the cold contact, but she didn't. Her body was already burning in anger.
"S-s-she was your age. J-just f-few years older than you." Jaanvi whispered. The tears burst forth like water running under the tap, spilling down her red face. Down her red angry cheeks. She felt the muscles in her body tremble, her chin trembled like a small child. Kiaan heard the sounds of sobs, like a distressed child, raw and damaged from inside before it could ever have built up. An injured heart. And his wasn't less.
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