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Hues of Life

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A 25 year old young Pakistani painter seems to be stuck in her own head, unable to comprehend her frequent dreams. Is there something shrouded keeping her awake almost every night, or merely a coincidental series of repeated ordeal.

Fantasy / Thriller
Age Rating:

Chapter 1

She gasped for air as her room started filling up with lukewarm water dripping from the edge of

nowhere. She lay dead straight over the bed in the depth of the cavernous room. With eyes wide open,

she observed the room dripping in the blues of the loch. She could feel the moisture lurking over her

skin. She could feel the water stirring from her throat to her lungs. She huffed as the blue began to drip

into her lungs. She was just an inch away from sanity. She could see a beam of light shining

magnificently over the surface of the water bed. With a satisfactory smile beaming her lips, she closed

her eyes. Just then...she began to cough out the water from her lungs. She spewed out the water,

piercing her throat. As she opened her eyes, she found her coughs echoing through the sonorous space.

She was laying sedentary over the bed with a mauve purple blanket casing her legs and her sister

whimpering her name with tints of concern over her face.

A drop of blue falling from the sky,

Rippled over the ocean of her thoughts,

She closed her eyes and smiled,

She felt the blue running in her veins,

This fictional tale felt similar,

The hues looked familiar,

She could feel her heart throbbing inside the chest,

Wasn’t she close to sanity?

Or if not sanity, maybe lucidity?

Why the thread of reality pulled her back?

She opened her eyes & found her soul creeping back into the body,

Same old room with a colorless roof.

“Amara! Are you okay? Should I get some water for you?”

While trying to suppress her sharp breaths, Amara looked around. She looked above...towards the

ceiling. The clock was ticking at 3:13 AM. Another night, another vague dream...She choked in her saliva

down the throat to let out some words of reassurance to her terrified sister. She looked towards her

sister, moved her head in denial with traces of discontent over her face, and stuttered

“N-No I am al-alright. I will just sleep again”.

Amara was breathless and a blub of sweat ran across her cheek as she lay down again. She kept staring

at the ceiling for hours. She couldn’t sleep... She kept switching sides...Those dreams were capable of

sweeping away somnolence from her eyes. After a while, she stood up from the bed...intending to fill

her paunch but her footsteps took her to that room. She couldn’t make herself visit that room after all

that happened. It was the first time in ten years that she could make herself go in. The wooden floor

creaked as she walked over it firmly...Without making any sound, she dawdled towards the corner left

room on the third floor of the apartment. After reaching the door, she unlocked it with shaky hands

using the key hidden inside the flower pot. As she opened the door, the dirt flew right into her nostrils

making her sneeze vehemently. She suppressed her sneeze, trying not to wake anyone up, dawdling

in...she switched on the lights of the room...the light given out thru the electric light, illuminated the

entire place... the azure blue walls of that room took her back to the summers of 2010. Amara found

herself surfing through memories as she traced her fingertips over the azure blue walls of the dusty

room...She smiled as a drop of tear fell over her cheek...

“The lane of memories is bewitching...but contagious at the same time.”

The words of her mother echoed through her ears “Blues and greys are part of life, Amara...but one

needs to see the other colors spread over the canvas of life.” While she was immersed in the memories,

Bisma sneaked in...

“Amara! Why are you here? Uh, at this time?”

She asked while rubbing her eyes.

While hiding her tears; Amara forced a fake smile while looking back towards her sleepy sister,

“Nothing, I just...had to...uh...had to...look for a paintbrush in this cupboard.”

“....You know...sometimes you can say out loud that you miss mom. I’m not six anymore.” After a

moment of silence, Bisma uttered,

“You do...right?”

While smiling at Bisma, Amara chanted,

“You should really consider getting into law school, Bisma...You have all those characteristics. You have

been asking questions since the moment you have stepped in, that too...this early in the morning...”

While twisting the entire statement, Amara stepped towards the Rosewood cupboard present at the

corner of the room. She opened the door of the cupboard; filled with blank canvases, paintbrushes, and

abstract paints. She dusted off the dirt covering all the utensils with a small polka-dot hankie, which she

took out from the pocket of her jeans.

She muttered to herself “This room needs some serious cleaning” while sneezing rhythmically again.

Bisma looked at Amara and said “You know that I can’t sleep without you, in the room...Your creaking

bed is such a reassurance. When you switch side, it creaks, and it feels like someone is staying up all

night to protect me against the dangers.” She chuckles.

Amara replies “Says the danger herself” Bisma rolls her eyes while smiling at her. They both share a

laugh at 4 of the morning.re…

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robyn gaines: Love all the characters in this book.

Bayamonesa: There are some unimportant 'blind spots' but it is a sweet story for me! I really like it!

Ali Asim: Man, your story was so wonderful. You have a good future for writing...keep up the good work. The character sketch of a character you created could be understood even if it is not given or mentioned in the story, it is just simply amazing. As you have the talent we hope you will write more as we ...


Kaari: I love the little details that don't make logical sense but seem to bring the story together to complete a circle that can't be broken. Alot of writers don't grasp that books are a freedom of sorts you can literally take it anywhere you want to. It's a real gift when the author is able to break n...

Kaari: I'm currently fighting a cold so laying in bed with all these characters to keep me company is perfection

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