He stabbed his childhood friend in the chest, feeling a surge of anger and pain. He had just seen his parents murdered by the same men who wore green scarves around their necks. He didn't care that one of them was Aziz, his best friend since they were kids. He didn't care that they had grown up in the same neighborhood, sharing toys, dreams, and secrets. He didn't care that Aziz was a Muslim and he was a Hindu. All he cared about was revenge.
Aziz gasped and looked at him with a mix of shock and regret. He had joined the rioters when he heard that the Hindus had slaughtered a cat, a sacred animal for his religion. He had lost his brother in the chaos and blamed the other faith for his death. He didn't think twice when he broke into Rajesh's house and killed his parents. He didn't realize that he was destroying his own friendship until it was too late.
They collapsed on the floor, bleeding from their wounds. They held each other's hands and whispered, "I'm sorry, my friend." They closed their eyes and breathed their last, unaware that the riot was over and peace had returned to the city. They died as enemies, but they were buried as brothers.
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Blood and Ashes
Short StoryEmbarking on a poignant journey on Wattpad, I'll pen a series of short stories, weaving narratives of communal strife, wars, and the haunting specter of destruction and death. Through raw emotions and vivid tales, this collection aims to explore the...
