Khwab •An Amaina Story•

Khwab

I hear trickling water. The rhythm is pleasant, unlike my turbulent state of mind.

The stream's nearly a foot away. I stand on its bank; clasping my deceased mother's bracelet, my hand covered in mud, filth, and in all probability, the degraded, skeletal remains of her corpse.

I stare blankly at the depression in the ground before me, as he continues his pleas to earn my forgiveness.

My hands; they're quivering. I can't get them to stay steady.

My whole life is a lie.

My Agha Jaan is a killer.

He murdered Amaan's family in cold blood.

He had my mother killed in order to protect his image.

He made me believe that my nightmares were delusions, instead of repressed memories.

I'm not normal.
My sanity is frequently at risk.

 Because of him.

His deceit.

His manipulation.

His love?

Does he love me even the slightest bit?

Does he even love himself?

"Noor-e-Jaan. Please, mujhe maaf kardo! Please!"

I can see his lips moving frantically, but I catch only bits and pieces of his speech.

His entreaties reach my eardrums.

I steel myself.

I don't let them appeal to my heart.

"Mar gaye, aap mere liye."

I whisper, cold and unfeeling, as I walk away, avoiding his clutches.

He continues his entreaties.

I keep walking.

I don't know where exactly my feet take me.

I don't have the energy left to make any inferences about my surroundings.

A loud, explosive sound in the distance forces me to stop short.

I turn around, and see his silhouette crash onto the ground, devoid of life or senses of any form.

"Agha Jaan!"

The scream escapes my lips before I can reprimand myself.

I run to him as quick as my feet carry me.

I see his corpse, a blustering bullet hole in his head; his eyes wide open, unflinching, guilt emanating from them.