R. Ali Rahaman

I pull into the parking garage of Shah Aerospace. It's eleven o'clock in the morning and the sun is brilliantly reflecting warmth in the wintery day. 

Taking the laptop bag from the back seat, I lock the car before walking to the lobby. 

"Ah! Right on time  I see, young man." Mr. Shah enters along with me. 

He is in his early sixties with a strong built figure. "Assalamu Alaikum. Still very fit I see, old man." I grin. 

"Old man, huh?" He raises one perfect brow dramatically, a smirk appears on his face.

We step inside the private elevator together and he presses twentieth floor. It directly takes us to his cabin.

The pearl white walls are decorated with various arts and the rest of the interior is quite fancy, perfectly complimenting his personality. He is a man of fashion, indeed. My eyes lands on the right wall where a huge frame containing Samara's photo is hanging.

"It was the last time I saw her smiling so bright." He sighs. "After her mother's death, I lost my child who was the light of my dark world too."

"She'll healed by time. Have faith."

"It's four years. How long do I have to wait further to see my child happy? It's been so long and day by day she is slipping away."

Grabbing his chair he sits down being devastated inside that is clearly been reflected on his subtle wrinkled face.

"May be she just needs an environment where she'd feel loved again." I say. "Let her stay with us for a few months more. I'm sure Ammi and others will take a good care of her."

"That I'm well aware of beta, the way you people have embraced my daughter with such affections, I've no words to thank you all." His eyes are watery. "She doesn't even let me see her. Still blames me for Sabrina's death."

There is nothing worse than a children blaming parents for their own downfall. The failure is too real to accept; no matter how much they try they never understand their grounds. It reminds me the time when I used blame Baba for every wrong in my life. I was correct but that doesn't mean he was wrong either. But it took me so long to realize it that it was too late even to apologize. He was just looking out for me though it wasn't in the most modest way nor he was the best of men but he cared. He was good father.

Baba forgive me. 

Releasing some drops of ache for the flop of being a better father to her, he stares at her smiling face that is shining in the little shade of burning sun rays peeking through the casement window on the right side of the off white wall. 

I let him have his moment. 

This man is a good father that I'm sure of - only if Samara would see how much he yearns for his daughter. On my return to home, the first job I've in hand is to talk to her, I note to myself. I'm not sure it's my place to speak but as a friend I think I'd help even if it doesn't make any difference.

I've known Samara and her family for so long. I've seen his bond with Abba. They are best of friends. So he thought it would only fair if their children get tied down as one. When the proposal of accepting her as my life partner came, I didn't disapprove the idea outright. That was one of the phrase in my existence period when I lost all hope of finding true happiness.  

I was just comprising with breathing for the people who saved me and gave me a new life - betraying them would be the sinful sin. They are my world. 

My friendship with Samara occurred a few years back and the solo medium was Nauman. She was caring for him and I couldn't complain there. It would have been selfish and mean. They shared a happy relation and she was good to him too. He was joyous to include her in the family. 

But then everything changed like a black storm brought a jovial morning after a catastrophic night. 

Maham's entrance has been like that. She showed me a new path to walk on, holding her hand and just live on and on without the fear of just breathing and feeling death inside has been long gone, replaced with just happiness. 

She is the blessing of my life.

A knock at the hard wooden door brings us back into the reality of the world.

"Sir the conference room is all ready and the clients have also arrived." His secretary says.

"Thank you Esha."

We head towards the hall together for the meeting. It's eleven thirty yet my PA is nowhere to be seen. I decide to wait for ten more minutes then I'll fire him surely. One thing I hate in business is inconsistency and this boy does exactly the same - always late! 

Why on earth Bhai chose this clumsy and irresponsible person as my PA? Just because he is the son of one of our former employee but that doesn't mean he has all the freedom of being so irresponsible.

"Mister Rahaman shall we start the meeting?" Mister Asif says.

"Yes of course." I hesitantly stand up. I've no documents and that idiot PA of mine hasn't arrived yet.

"I heartily apologise for my inconvenience." Hasan pants. Sweat has shower his hair and face. His messy wet hair is falling on his head and he is sucking air in with his mouth. 

Where the hell was he?

"Sir I'm so sorry." His tied and puffed eyes are proving he hasn't got much sleep. Handing me the pen drive and necessary documents he takes a seat beside me.

"So shall we start?" Clearing my throat I start my presentation. 

The meeting goes on for an hour or so and observing their expression it seems that they quite like my proposal.

"Any more questions gentlemen?" 

Raising one hand Mister Roy asks, "Why should we invest in this project? The profit rate is very low plus the expenses are much high. There is so much at stake."

"Yes I agree with Mister Roy. There are too many risks Mister Rahaman. What do you say Mister Shah?" Mister Asif says.

"Well you see it's more profitable in the long run. It will take time to build but it's isn't a failure at all. Just a little patience is required."

"Thank you Mister Shah." Thanking him I turn off the laptop. "So gentlemen let me know about your decisions. Thank you very much for today." 

After the meeting, I decide to talk to Hasan. 

"If you continue being so irresponsible then you might end up losing your job. If you're not serious about your work then resign. Don't waste my time or yours like this." 

His tied expression quickly changes to his nerves are freaking out. "S-sir p-please I'm very sorry. Last chance. Please sir." 

He begs folding his hands together. 

"Very well then." A glimpse of smile appears his face. "Go now and prepare for my next meeting." 

"Yes sir."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three weeks. It's been three weeks since I last talked to my family. In the hustle and bustle of the new project I'm drowned in and I miss them so bad.

"Drive straight to the airport." I instruct the driver. 

Taking out my phone from the coat's pocket and give a call to Ammi. 

After a few rings she answers, "Assalamu Alaikum beta. How are you?"

"Walaikum Assalam Ammi. I'm fine Alhamdulilah," I reply. "How is everyone?"

"Everyone is good but we're missing you beta. When are you returning?" She asks.

"Very soon Ammi."

We continue to talk until the car drives to the airport. It feels overwhelming talking to her after so long. Once this task ends I can return home comfortably. 

The plane soon starts it's flight to New York - my last destination before going back home resting a bit of peace. All I want to see him for my own sanity. 

Yeh Raab keep your blessing with him please.

I continue murmuring Duas (invocations) all my way until I reached where I wanted to be for one last time. 

Today is his big day - the day of his final operation. I'd to be here at any cost. I can't abandon him like this or in such crucial state where he needs me the most though he doesn't remembers me, it's my responsibility. 

After this operation some concrete verdict can be passed about his recovery. There is fifty-fifty chances and nothing be assured. My heart is increasingly throbbing by every passing minute. My mind is a whirlpool of pessimistic assumptions and emotions. 

What if he doesn't make it?

No! He has to live. He is a fighter and death can't defeat him. 

My Lord can't be so cruel with me. He can't take him away from him. He is my only sanity. I wish I could've Maham beside me. I just need her so bad right now. I don't think I can't do this on my own.

Will she stay beside even after knowing everything?

After a long flight, the plane kisses the earth of New York where my everything is at stake. Anxiety, panic, brainstorm - you name it. All emotions are surfing on surface of my fear of losing him. I never thought a time will come when I've to witness the battle against death and my own blood is the one who is it at the war.

Exiting the terminal after security check as I step out a gust of wind attack me. Hiring a taxi, I head for the hospital with hundreds of thoughts swimming in my mind.

The ride hasn't been easy, at least not all the disturbing thoughts that hit me with angst and fright and my inner turmoil is tangling like spider webs.

The outside scenario is getting darker by time. The grey and dull surrounding is increasing with my agitation. Rays of thunder are blazing around the edges of ashen clouds.

The smiley sun has been hidden behind the deadly clouds snatching all optimistic vibes away. Soon a dash of rain drops begin to shower on earth in its own rhythm, glooming my vision.

The driver pulls the taxi in front of the hospital. "Keep the change." Paying him a hundred dollar note, I rush inside. The lobby is crowded; people are buzzing like bees. I'm about to  equity at the reception, when I hear someone calling my name. 

Trying around I find Danish and Afiya standing near me. 

"You guys came?" I didn't expect them to come. 

She hugs me tightly, "Of Course! We'd to come."

"Let's hurry now. It's almost time for his operation." Danish says, "He's in room 245 on fifth floor."

We walk into the lift and as it's going up, my heart rate leveling up and hands becoming ice. 

The door slides open and we step out. I'm standing on such a floor where I  wish I never had to come. I can see Phuppo and Phuppaa sitting at the waiting area and Phuppo is murmuring while counting Tasbih. They look stressed and tired. 

"Salam." I greet them politely. 

"Beta, you've arrived!" Phuppaa release a breath of relief. 

"How's his condition?" I ask hugging Phuppo. My fear has invoking and evoking  in every way possible until it's killing me from inside and out. 

"He'll be better very soon, In Sha Allah." She cries, "Oh my Allah! What has this innocent soul sinned that he's suffering so much?"

How can I tell you that he's suffering the consequences of my ill doings!

"C-can I see him?" I tremble.

"They're about to bring him out." 

After the longest five minutes of my life, the door of his cabin opens and two nurses slides him out on a stretcher. 

Seeing him lying there unconscious is urging my heart to be numbed. He's eyes are closed and he's breathing softly without the awareness of the world which he hasn't got the opportunity of exploring yet.  I've lost courage to watch him. 

It's unbearable!

Fumblingly, I take a step forward. He has grown paler as if all of his blood have been drained away and only a living corpse is lying on the stretcher. Once his head full of black hair is now left as bald. 

With shaky fingers i caress his ice-cold skin. it's very dry, no sign of moisture at all. Two deep puddles of blackcircles have gathered under his eyes.

"You're my brave warrior, son. Don't be scared. I got your back always. You'll be okay, In Sha Allah." Reciting a Dua I blow it over him. I kiss his forehead one last time before he's taken away.

"He'll be alright." Danish says. "He has all our prayers and blessings."

"Get a grip of yourself!" Afiya advices.

Everyone is constantly whispering soothing words with hope and positivity but how can I tell them none will be easing my inner paranoia?

I can't be at ease until I see him blink again. 

I can't rest until I hear his voice again.

I can't calm my nerves down until I've him in my arms again?

Everyone mourning their own pain and no one will comprehend mine. A misfortune father who never saw his child to born but seeing his child fighting death - this torment is beyond any pain. 

Their consoling is getting under my nerves. I don't want them to be here with me right now. I want to be alone. 

Sometimes it's easier to face disasters on your own because it makes you feel less reliable for the hurt others are going through. If you don't witness them, you feel less of everything that's going on in the moment. 

Sometimes in certain situations the crowd feels choked in your lungs and it's better to be in the battlefield all alone. 

"All of you please stay silent for a while." I snap. "I beg you please. I'm tired of listening to cool down. Fuck it! My four years old son is on deathbed and you people are asking me not to react!" 

My emotions are messing up with my head. I don't know what I'm doing. Nothing is making sense to me right now. I've lost the judgement of right and wrong. No matter how much they support me I can't feel good about anything. I can't help help but bark at them.

What if this is the last time I see him breathing?

What if he never wakes up?

What if I lose him forever?

What if this is the last goodbye?

"I'm sorry." I mumble, "I didn't mean to act in such manner, but please understand my state. I'm sorry." 

"It's okay."

Phuppaa gives me an reassuring smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's been several hours since he's been taken inside the operating theater and it's been several hours of agony and praying. The red bulb which is glowing brightly on top of the door is gawking at me as if it's mocking at my misery.

I'm patrolling in front of the room like a madman. My hopeless fate surely knows to trigger my vulnerability.

"Coffee?" Afiya offers.

Taking the cup from her I say, "You should've went with them. You need rest too."

"So do you, Bhai." 

As a sip of the hot steaming coffee runs through my throat, my stomach growls. 

"When was the last time you ate?" She narrows her eyes.

I shrug. 

She sighs. "I've never thought a day will come where we'd be here in this circumstances. Our life will turn upside down to such extent."

The hot steams fly up, dancing in various patterns and then vanish in the air just like that, slowly and steadily. It can't be controlled nor possess or revive. 

So does fate. You don't know to which path it's driving you until you've reached where it intended to take you and then you're just vanish in rhythm of life, playing your part like a prisoner lives in prison. No freedom. No choice. You just live on.

May be we all do have choices, we do  get to choose our destiny by do we really take the option of choosing? We're just lost. We walk on the road our fate lead us and later blame our fate for it, don't we?

"Where we went wrong, Bhai?" She demands an answer. "We're happy and had a good life. Then what happened?"

Rayan Ali Haider happened!

"This is how we learn Afi. We grow better. We become a better person in life because calamities hit us. We always learn in a hard way." 

"Does Maham knows yet?" There is terror in her tone. Her grip on my bicep tightens. 

"She's still in the dark. I don't know how to break it to her." 

I've zero clue.

"But someday she'll learn everything. You can't hide it forever." She's worried.

"I know that! And I also know the truth will shatter me, her, us and everything like sand." My heart screams of terror thinking the consequences of the revelation.

"I can't even imagine Bhai. Another storm is ahead." She whispers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A decade later the door of the operation room wide opens and Dr. Martin walks out. His expression is unreadable. 

Has something went off?

Is my son alright?

"D-Doctor?" That's all I'd say. My inside is screaming and throat is dry as wood. 

I'm at a mess.

"Much can't be right at the moment. His condition was very critical since the beginning. We did our best but we've to keep him under observation for 48 hours. There are chances, he might slip into coma." He informs. 

Afiya weeps covering her face in her palms, "Are you gonna lose him?"

"I'm just telling the possibilities. Let's hope for the best. Now excuse me, please."

His operation has been successful and for a moment I thought he is now in safe zone but calamity never comes along.

"It's all in His hand." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

It's been more than 20 hours since I came here. Ammi has called thrice meanwhile and Abba twice. Their state of minds are very chaotic like ours. Ammi and others are constantly praying for Nauman. Everyone is waiting for one news that would erase all turmoil and agony. 

Just one new.

"Has Afiya reached home safely?" I ask.

"Yeah but she's super pissed at you for forcing her go home. She wanted to stay until Nauman regain consciousness." Danish says.

"Her attachment with him is very motherly-like. I still remember the time when she found him. She's the reason I've my son." I sigh. "She'll eventually come by, don't worry."

He nods a little, giving me a slight smile, "Typical composed Rayan."

"Typical Danish comments." 

We break into laughter after a long time. 

"In Sha Allah, he'll be out of danger soon. He has all our prayers." 

Danish peeks through the glass window inside his room. He has been shifted to his room two hours later after the surgery and everyone had paid their visit. Danish has requested to stay beside me even after my several disputes. These people have already suffered so much for me and I don't them continue more, but may be just now I need my only friend giving me hopes for the better.

 "Rayan, have you called Maham?" He questions.

"Hmm, once when I first landed in Dubai." Her mention spikes my heart. 

He stares at my expression, crooking his eyebrows, "You know we've friends forever. Since pre-school we're together and not once have I judged you. Now spill."

"I-I'm scared." I release a deep breath, admitting my fear, "To tell the truth, I'm terrified to even think about her reactions. Once she knows everything she'll despise more than ever she'd. Danish she'll leave me for good. How can I be courageous after being aware of the consequences?"  

"She loves you dear friend, never doubt that. Love is much more stronger and pure than hatred. She might be mad but won't misunderstand you if stay honest at your grounds." He seems so convincing but I know she can never accept the truth heartily. It's impossible for her. 

She might love the Rayan she knows now, but can she love the Rayan she used to know?"

 "It's late. I think you'd take rest." I alter the route of our conversation, putting an end to it.

"I'm fine here. You go in and sleep. You need it more than I do." He throws an empty coffee cup in the bin, "And we'll switch if required, now go little warrior is been alone for some good time."

"Goodnight."

"Night Rayan."

Entering the cabin gives me chills. He hasn't still wake up. I sit beside him, talking to him all night and somehow my eyes fall asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning brings no new news. He's still unconscious, no movement has been reported. 

Deep down I'm afraid he might never wake up.

I'm losing hope.

I drive to aunt's house for some time as I need to freshen. She has offered me to eat a couple of times but I refused. 

Afiya and Danish are currently at the hospital watching over him. 

It's been midday and I'm offering my prayer, begging my Lord to grant him consciousness. I'm in the middle of my prayer when I hear aunt and uncle shouting my name. Praying last two rakhts, I finish praying. 

"What's the matter, phuppo? Are you okay?" 

"Beta, he's awake. He has open his eyes." She laughs joyfully. 

"WHAT!" I cry, "He has?" I can't believe my ears. Am I dreaming? I've burnt yearning to hear this news, "Let's go and see him. I'll take out the car. Hurry." 

"Yes, let's go."

Their faces are glistening bright in happiness. The gloomy clouds of agony are no more. Phuppah has called my parents informing this best news on our way to the hospital.

Once reaching the hospital, Danish and Afiya hug me merrily. Greeting them, I go straight to his room. Some nurses are examining him and after that they left. My legs begin to tremble. He's awake. He's blinking his eyes. 

Is this a dream?

"Baba?" He calls me. He called me after, after so long. My throbbing heart calms down at once hearing him. I pace quickly and engulf him into my arms. I was thirsty to have him in my arms, tears burst out.

"My son." I caress his face to be sure about this reality, "My little baby, you've recovered. Oh Allah! You're indeed merciful. You're just." 

"Baba, why are you crying?" He innocently asks.

"Because I'm so so so happy to see you." I kiss him continuously. 

"I wanna go home." He pouts, "Home! Home! Home" 

"Very soon, very son." 

We talk for some time more, then Dr. Martin visits him. 

Nauman has been thrilled to see us all as. Afiya is on the ninth cloud, her cheery nature has returns. She's dancing all over the floor. 

Doctor suggests not move him until for next two months. He needs complete bed rest and may be if everything is alright he can travel back to his country.

It's very difficult to convince him to stay at aunt's house as he wanted to see his family but he has to understand the circumstances. Moreover, there is Maham need to know the truth also.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

It's been a few days he has been discharged from the hospital. Though he's a bit weaker, he's still very active. All day he plays and jump around the house until he's tired. Yesterday he demanded to visit the park and today zoo. After a long hours of convincing and bribing he has agreed not to ask to go out for some days.

My parents and siblings always chat with him via video call whenever they get a chance or should I say behind Maham's back. 

I've decided to talk to him  about Maham. I don't know how would he take it, but he has to know. 

"Tiger, there is something I need to tell you." I sit beside him.

"About my new mother?" He interrogates, surprising me.

"H-how did you know?" I hesistate. 

"Afi mama told me." His  reply is cool and quite, "I'll behave well when I meet her, don't worry." 

He has been always smarter than his age. He sometimes acts better an adult. 

"She's lovely and I'm sure she'll adore and love you so much." I smile at him.

"Will she accept me?" That's a million dollar question.

"I don't know." I whisper to myself. I don't know what to reply, his one question drops all my confidence and hope at once. I believe she won't hate a child because of my reality but will she accept him, me, us? That's the question I'm searching the answer of myself. 

Taking him to bed, I stay until he falls asleep and I keep on my wait for the day to arrive when I'll face her. 

After a month, he recovers from weakness but not fully. He needs to be here for a month more but I need to head for home soon. I called Maham after many days, informing her my arrival at thirty first and knowing that she is happy I'm at peace to some length. 

And soon my day of departure arrives. I've already told Nauman about it and I can tell he isn't happy about but he didn't protest much. It's heartbreaking for me to leave him like this, but there one task I've to complete before taking back to home and I'm not really prepared for it. 

Bidding goodbyes to everyone, I drive off the airport. The entire flight I thought of Nauman's last words, "You're leaving me because of her." He didn't ask rather he states. It's bugging me a lot. I don't want him have such ideas. I hope his thoughts will be changed once he meets her. 

For an hour I'm stuck at this bloody traffic. Sometimes I wonder what Delhi is more famous for, Gate of India or this long and tiring traffics.

However, after a great struggle I reach home though I'm two hours late. I missed new year and Maham won't very happy about it. 

"Ap toh late kar diya Janab, (You're late Mister)" Bhabi says.

"Don't ask traffics of this city will never improve." I explain my reason, "How are you and where is everyone?"

"Kids have gone to bed and Ammi and Abba are at their, waiting for you and happy new year." 

"Happy New Year Bhabi." I chuckle.

I climb the stairs and she stops me yelling, "Maham is at her room, waiting for you and she has planned a surprise for you." She winks.

At first I meet my parents. Though they are delighted yet they are bit sad, that their grandson couldn't come. Greeting them goodnight, I finally head towards my room where my wife waiting for me, perhaps with a hammer.

As I pass through the door, the lights are off. It's very dark, only a lamp light on the table is blowing some visibility in the darkness.

Where is she? She never liked dark rooms.

Something isn't settling well in my chest, this unlit room is hinting some bad news. 

Is she alright? 

"Maham?" Panic kicks in, "Maham, where are you? Maham?" I take a few steps forward. Switching on the lights, I find sitting at a corner, her head buried down her knees, "Maham?" I mumble her name. 

Instantly she reacts to my touch and jumps up as if my touch has burnt her, "Don't you dare to come near me!" She warns.

Taking a few steps back, I ask what's wrong. Her expression is ghostly, eyes puffed and swollen maybe she has cried for hours. Her hair is a mess. Her weary face is filled with confusions and questions. 

 "Who are you?" Her eyes demand answers, "And don't you bloody dare to lie!" She lifts her hand, she is holding the lock chain.

My breath stuck in my throat, hands turning ice cold. She has found it. She knows everything. There is no I'd hide anymore. She has to know the truth now.

"WHO ARE YOU?" She screams. 

"M-Maham l-look I'll tell you everything. Just calm down." I say softly.

"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?" She yells once again.

"I'm," I pause for a while before speaking, "I'm Rayan Ali Haider." 

She trembles back, "It's impossible." Shock, terror and agony are evident on her features, "It's impossible. How is it even possible? Your face, your face has changed, how? Telling me you're lying." She urges to be it a lie, and I wish so it was a fucking lie, but it's not and that's the most truthful truth.

"I'll explain everything, but please calm down and listen to me for once." I beg her, "I really didn't want you to find out this way. I'm sorry"

"Sorry? You're sorry?" She vigorously grabs my collar and pulls it, "You never wanted me to know, didn't you? Did I just ruin your plan for revenge?" 

"Revenge? What are you saying?"

"Don't act naive Mr. Haider. Don't act naive! This all your plan since the beginning. Purchasing my land where I wanted built restaurant, sending your bloody fake family with proposal. Everything was a part of you bloody plan, wasn't it?" 

Her eyes where once I saw innocence, compassion and care and now there is nothing but pools of tears and behind those tears, there are floating loath, disgust and disbelief. 

"Don't talk about my family, please." I request her. This family has done so much for me and I won't hear a single bad against them. "Please curse me as much as you want but not them."

"Shut. Up." She grits, "JUST SHUT UP! YOU'RE A LIAR! A CHEAT! YOU MURDERED MY FAMILY AND YET YOU'RE SO HELL BENT TO RUIN ME!"

"Listen to me once, Jannan, please." I cup her face.

Rushing away from my touch, she spats, "Don't show me your fake affections! How can you stoop so low, huh. How? I thought you're dead and, and I mourned but I wish you were dead for real. I curse you living! I curse you! I CURSE YOU! YOU DISGUST ME! I should've never said yes for this marriage. I shouldn't have. I feel to scratch every part of my skin where you've touched me, kissed me. I'd burn myself for even feeling something for you. I wish I'd kill you right now, I wish you die now, Rayan Ali Haider. Every breath you take is curse upon my LIFE. You are the most deceptive, hateful person I ever met. I LOATHE YOU! I LOATHE YOU!"

Her every word pierce through my bleeding heart. For once I thought she might forgive me, for once I had believe she would listen to my part of the story and for once I'd imagined a happy ending but I forgot my life is a curse. 

She is right, I've no right to live. My life means nothing but a waste of space. I'm a ruinous. All hopes are dead, all wished are buried deep inside my soulless soul. I've nothing left to lose. 

Her tears curse me, her eyes wants to see my death, her face desires a laugh at my funeral. So shall it be. I'll give her want she wants. 

I rush to the closet and takes out my gun from the locker. Handing it to her after unlocking it I suggest, "Kill me then." 

She looks muddle. 

"Don't think so much, shoot at my heart and kill me. Serve you hatred, Jannan."

"Don't. Call. Me. That." She thugs the gun on my chest. She is burning and burning with fury. I wobble back a bit.

"I love you, hoor-e-Rayan, forever and always." I'm tired of fighting for her. I know no matter how much I try she won't love me nor forgive me. She despises me with every bone in her body. 

You've finally broken me, Jannan!

"I HATE YOU!" She cries.

"Do it Maham, do it! This is the only you can stop me from loving you. As long as I'll live you'll be my angel. And dying at your hand would be the best blessing of my life. So pull the trigger and finish me forever. DO IT! DO I...!" 

A loud pang cuts through the tensed air and a bullet pass through my chest, stopping me from breathing. Losing my balance I shudder on the floor. My eyes becomes blurry, gradually I'm losing my sense and everything turns dark as the blackhole.

This is my end, my end at her hand.

I wish I could've seen her smiling face for one last time but it's my punishment I guess, for all my sins. 

"RAYAN!" 

It's the last thing I hear before, life leaves my body.

_________________________________________________________________

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