Chapter 1: Beloved, life is fault at last
Anguish, Agony, and extreme pain kept on revolving around as designed by the universe.
’end my life.′ No one heard as she kept on googling ways to kill herself with a knife, jumping off from the terrace, or hanging to death. The girl who once was so fragile is now draining blood out of her scratching her own hands. ′I could feel the warmth inside, I deserve to die on my own rather than being murdered brutally’, she screamed putting on bandages. She wiped her floor that was having stains of blood here around before her parents were at home. Her father works most hours and returns late at night. Sometimes, I don’t see him for days. He might be going on corporation tours. Her mother is a pretty and sensible woman. Aanvi is she, and I am her therapist for a year. More like best friends, we share details with each other. She is now surviving on anxiety pills all alone and abandoned.
She is an undergrad in biological sciences, willing to uncover the mysteries of drugs and medicines in the public health sector. I am sure, she will accomplish her dream of getting into department of Oxford. If remain alive! Let me tell you, she is an unreal version of aesthetic subculture concerned with higher education, art, poetry, literature, and architecture. Such girls have loud eyes. If you look into it, you see galaxies. Moon crawls under their skin, sunlight peels off their nerves, human touch shivers their cold hands, and dearest love destroys their ribcage.
She was paralyzed, incapable, and worn out in sickness when she booked an appointment with me last year. TRAUMATIZED AND BRUISED.
‘hey Eliza, Aanvi here. please help me. I heard you are an extremely fine doctor to provide medications that can burn memories of a half-blinded game.’
’calm down, Aanvi. Your pulse rate is deteriorating. You might need some oxygen mask on. Are you sick?′
’I don’t mind, I will be dying anyways in around 30′s. Who survives with such complicated diseases, neither will I. I can witness a fated illness, but Eliza I am begging you to stop me from taking my own life. How can I desire to eradicate my flesh and bones? It’s unethical, my parents do not earn this.′
She became pathetic, deplorable, and messy. For the love of a rose, she became the slave of a thousand thorns. Aanvi is in her twenties, and her heart is a masterpiece to endure unkindness or cruelty. But even when she falls asleep nestled in her arms, this will leave another scar. No one will see it. No one will know. And eventually, that’s all she’ll be- one big scar of a love gone wrong.
‘Aanvi, what pulls the trigger? Being vulnerable scares you, then so be it. I’ll go where you go no matter how dark the path.’
’...I was Hungry for love. Just once, I wanted to know what it was like to get my fill of it- to be fed so much love. Longing for his love is a sin: of that I’m fully aware. But a sinner I am. Instead it turned into a violent abuse, sinking my throat through poison, until it permeates every inch of my soul.′
Breathes heavily as she bent on knees.
’When love is bloody like that, it’s hard to remember what love really is. Love is evil. Unforgiving.′
’I couldn’t take how tragic you lay yourself down in these honeyed traps, only to get eaten alive by the lover you claim to want the most. I am sure he must not been in love with you. That’s torture, Aanvi.′
‘I was persuaded to rip my heart off. He made me convinced that he had a naïve fascination for me. I was too little to realise he is a villain of this tale, possessing a cell filled with destruction until he grabbed my neck. I hate him to eternity. I hate that I hate myself for being delicate.’
I could barely stare her. How she would be brave enough to have faith in herself again. Screw the boy and screw God for being bitter. I want to hear more, she necessarily needs to yell all her wounds to inhale air again!
‘Aanvi...open your eyes.’
Her hands were cold. I held her in my arms. Oh girl!
‘That night...He let me die. Over and over and over.'
’‘What happened that night?’
‘Pleasure. He took of mine.’
