Ch : Sixteen

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In the dimly lit room, Ram's heart pounded against his chest like a drumbeat echoing through the silence. The sight of Aliya, pale and unconscious on the bed, sent a surge of fear coursing through his veins. His eyes widened in horror as he noticed the crimson trail seeping from her wrist, staining the pristine sheets.

Without a moment's hesitation, Ram rushed to her side, his voice trembling as he demanded answers from the startled staff. Anguish and fury mingled within him as he realized that precious moments had slipped away while they awaited his arrival. Every second felt like an eternity as he grappled with the overwhelming sense of regret gnawing at his soul.

Just as despair threatened to consume him, a glimmer of hope emerged in the form of a new arrival – the ambulance. With Aliya cradled in his arms, Ram descended the stairs in a blur of panic and desperation. Each step echoed with the weight of his fear, a haunting reminder of the fragility of life and the consequences of inaction.

In that moment, Ram was not just a man racing against time; he was a vessel overflowing with raw emotion – fear, regret, and a flicker of hope. With every beat of his heart, he prayed for Aliya's safety, willing the ambulance to be their beacon of salvation in the darkness that threatened to engulf them both.

As Ram paced outside the emergency room, his footsteps echoed in the hollow corridors like the relentless ticking of a clock counting down the moments of his anguish. His once pristine white shirt now bore the crimson stains of Aliya's blood, each blotch a haunting reminder of the tragedy that had unfolded before his eyes.

With every glance at the blood-soaked fabric, a wave of agony crashed over him, threatening to drown him in a sea of remorse. In the depths of his restless mind, he replayed the events of that fateful night, each scene etched with sharp clarity like shards of glass piercing his soul.

He could feel the weight of his mistakes pressing down on him, suffocating him with the unbearable burden of guilt. How could he have been so blind, so oblivious to the silent cries for help that Aliya had masked behind her stoic facade?

With a heavy heart, Ram realized the extent to which he had unwittingly contributed to the unraveling of Aliya's life. His actions, or lack thereof, had left scars that ran deeper than any physical wound, scars that would forever mar the fabric of their intertwined destinies.

As he stood there, haunted by the specter of his failures, Ram knew that no amount of remorse could undo the damage that had been done. All he could do now was wait – wait for news of Aliya's fate, and pray that somehow, against all odds, she would find the strength to overcome the darkness that threatened to consume her.

As Ram's heart continued to ache with worry and regret, a sudden interruption shattered the heavy silence. His phone, like an unwelcome intruder, pierced through the somber atmosphere with its insistent beeping. With a heavy sigh, he glanced down at the glowing screen to see his mother's name flashing across it.

In that moment, Ram knew he was in no state to face the weight of a conversation, especially with someone who would undoubtedly sense the turmoil in his voice. With a decisive gesture, he silenced the intrusive noise and tucked the device back into the depths of his pocket, as if to shield himself from the outside world and its relentless demands.

In the quiet solitude of his own thoughts, Ram sought refuge from the outside world, seeking solace in the sanctuary of his own inner turmoil. For now, the only conversation he was willing to entertain was the silent dialogue of his own conscience, as he grappled with the haunting echoes of his actions and their devastating consequences.

As dawn broke, painting the sky with hues of pink and gold, Ram's weary eyes fluttered open to the gentle voice of a nurse. His heart leaped with anticipation as she delivered the news he had been longing to hear – Aliya had regained consciousness.

With hesitant steps, Ram entered Aliya's room, his footsteps echoing softly against the sterile floors. There she lay, fragile and vulnerable, her gaze fixed upon the floor as if afraid to meet his eyes. In that moment, the weight of unspoken words hung heavy between them, a chasm of silence begging to be bridged.

Summoning every ounce of courage he possessed, Ram finally broke the silence, his voice trembling with emotion as he asked the question that had been weighing heavily on his heart. "Why did you do that?" he whispered, his words hanging in the air like a delicate thread.

Aliya's resolve crumbled in the face of his unwavering gaze, tears streaming down her cheeks as she struggled to find the words to express the pain that had driven her to the brink. With a shuddering breath, she poured out her heart, her voice choked with sorrow and regret.

In that moment of shared vulnerability, walls crumbled and barriers dissolved, leaving only raw emotion laid bare between them. Ram reached out, a silent gesture of comfort and understanding, as they embraced in a tender moment of catharsis.

As Aliya finally succumbed to the embrace of sleep, her eyelids fluttering shut under the weight of exhaustion, Ram lingered by her bedside, torn between the urge to stay and the pressing need to attend to his own weary soul.

With a heavy heart, he gently brushed a stray lock of hair from Aliya's forehead, silently promising to return once she had found the rest she so desperately needed. With a sense of reluctance, Ram reluctantly tore himself away from her side and stepped out into the corridor.

his steps heavy with exhaustion, he reached for his phone with a sense of weariness that seemed to weigh down his very soul.

With a flicker of trepidation, he unlocked the device, only to be met with a flood of missed calls that sent a jolt of surprise coursing through him.

There, blinking insistently on the screen, were over fifty missed calls from Priya and his mother's number. Each missed call seemed to carry the weight of unspoken worry and concern,that made him curious.

As Ram's fingers hovered over his phone, poised to call back the missed calls from Priya and his mother, the shrill ring of the house landline shattered the fragile stillness of the moment. With a sense of urgency, he snatched up the receiver, his heart pounding in his chest as he braced himself for the news that awaited him on the other end of the line.

The voice that greeted him was strained with worry, the familiar tones of their longtime servant carrying a weight of urgency that sent a shiver down Ram's spine. With bated breath, he listened as the servant relayed the news that sent shockwaves rippling through his soul – his father had fallen ill, and had been rushed to the hospital in the dead of night.

For a moment, Ram stood frozen in disbelief, the words echoing in his ears like a surreal nightmare from which he could not wake. How could this be happening? His mind reeled with a whirlwind of emotions – fear, confusion, and a gnawing sense of helplessness.

In that moment, the world seemed to tilt on its axis, casting Ram into a tumultuous sea of uncertainty and dread. The realization that his own father lay stricken in a hospital bed, miles away and beyond his reach, struck him like a bolt of lightning, leaving him reeling in its wake.

With trembling hands, Ram hung up the phone, his thoughts swirling in a maelstrom of anguish and despair. In that moment of profound vulnerability, he clung to the fragile threads of hope, praying for strength to weather the storms that raged both within and without.







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