Without You ✔️ (completed)

II. scar: داغ

The moment she was back and stepped out of her car, she dreaded her father's cold eyes. It had been twelve years and her father hadn't said a word to her. It was better to be hated like he hated Asfandyar or even be angered at like he would get angry at Kabir, than having a cold response, especially from a father. It felt as if someone sliced his heart with freezing cold knife and stepped on those torn pieces. Last time she heard her father talk to her was when she was sixteen. She was twenty-eight now.

she hesitantly twisted the knob and opened the door. It was nine o'clock and her father was probably retired to his study. She sighed. It hurt her to death to see the disappointment in her father's eyes due to her mere existence. She took out her shoes and went to flop on the couch in living room.

There was so much pain in her. She was hurt. She was broken. She was scared. She was scarred. Her fate had taken her and ripped her apart with a glass blade.

She couldn't say a word though. She had promised herself to never utter even one word of that unfortunate day.

She sighed and just lay her head on the small cushion. She opened her eyes when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned her head and met with her Kabir's calm eyes. Those eyes were one of those very few eyes who didn't stare at her with accusations. Her brother gave her a small smile and she sighed sadly. He tried to understand her pain, but how could he when she hasn't said a word about what she was going through all these years. But he tried to comfort her, that was enough for her to live another day.

"I have a headache." She pressed her hand on her head.

"Go change and go to your bed. I'll get you a nice, hot cup of Chai." She smiled and thanked her brother and went to up to her bed.

She was changing when her eyes fell on the scar that ran across her back from her right shoulder all the way to left side of her hip. It was a deep scar and a reminder of that day. Nobody had seen this scar except the doctor who sewed her up. They were able to sew her skin, but her soul was left wounded. Her lawyer had seen the wound of her sliced skin, but apart from that nobody had ever seen what the outcome of that sliced back was. She grazed her hand on the parts where her hand could reach and she could feel the uneven skin. It was this open cut at that time which had saved her from going to prison.

And then the burn marks on her shoulder. The pain that she still needed to scream about. She touched it with her finger tips and remembering his reaction.

"Who did this, Ayla?"

His eyes widened as he stepped closer to her. Her back hitting the dressing table.

"Who the fuck did this, Ayla?"

His eyes screamed murder. They were filled with rage and he was going to go on a rampage. His eyes scared her.

"Don't do this, Zach." Her lips wavered as he stood in front of her. Merely leaving space for air to pass between them. "Let it go. Please." She begged him. Pleading for mercy.

But His eyes were trained on the reflection of her back in the mirror. Mere touch of his fingers along the seam of her shirt sent her tumbling down. On the edge of crumbling, she was few strengths away from breaking down in front of him.

He pulled her shirt down her shoulder slightly and gasping at the chaos of cigarette burns. The scars peppered her body, starting from the base of her neck all the way down to her shoulder.

His feathery touch caressed few of the circles, but scalding pain of her torture resurfaced. The burning memories closing her throat. She shook her head.

She put her hands on his chest with the intent to push him away, but the scared Ayla from her past held on to him. His white shirt bunching under her hold as she tried to breathe.

"No, Please Zachary, it hurts."

She might have survived her catastrophic past, and picked her pieces through the harrowing storm, but the trauma left her wounded. She still haven't learned to survive her trauma. Living each day in guilt and fear.

"Who did this?" 

The anger surging yet again in those eyes that were the reflection of a stormy night. Darkness endlessly embedded in them. Vessel to their past that carried grief and feeling of betrayal.

"Your silence never did us any good. Look where we are because I respected your silence. Tell me who did this?"

He held her face in his hands. Brushing the fallen strands away from her face and tucking it behind her ear. His eyes screaming for her to tell him the story behind those scars, but she couldn't. Not even if she wanted to. Her truth had been suppressed long ago. Her voice was strangled by a monster who scared her body and her soul.

How could she tell him that her buried screams silently tearing her apart every night as she felt that sweaty and heavy hand on her mouth as that monster damaged her soul and body.

"Fine." The curtain of coldness falling on the warmth of his eyes. "I know how to find it out my way. And I fucking promise you, Ayla, the day I find this person behind those scars of yours. I will drag him through hell on his kness and set his fucking body on fire and watch without mercy."

He traced her wavering lips with her thumb and then left without a backward glance.

"He is dead, Z. He is dead, but when you find out the truth behind my scars. You will set your own world on fire."

Not wanting to remember that day again, she pulled her shirt on and left the bathroom. She got into the warm bed and her body instantly fell prey to the comfort as it started to release the tension and pain. There was a knock on her door and her older brother entered with a cup. She thanked him.

He merely a year older than him, but he was everything for her. He was her family, her world. The only one who witnessed the trial, but still stood between her and world, trying to save her from the nasty accusations that didn't even hold an ounce of truth. But then again apart from two people no one even knew the whole truth and one of dead already.

Drinking the tea and talking to him made her calm. Kabir pulled the blanket on her as she started to close her eyes.

"I am tired, Lala*," She whispered.

"I know." She heard his voice in the distance as she felt his hand on her head. "I wish I could take all your pain away, Aaloo. I wish I could take away every secret running through your veins which is slowly destroying you inside. I wish I could take you far away from this world of hurt and pain."

I wish that too, Lala.

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New cover!!!! @izainab was kind enough to take time out and make this beautiful cover that fits perfectly with the theme and story. Thank you soooo much 💕💕 all the love, appreciation and much more... your way ❤️❤️

*Lala = a term of endearment used for an older brother