Love Across Time

Eighty Six

-𝓖𝓻𝓲𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓭 𝓫𝔂 𝓖𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓯-

Aanya cracked open her eyes, a sliver of unwelcome light piercing through the fog of sleep and nausea. Her eyelids felt like lead weights, each blink an effort against the crushing despair threatening to pull her under. As her vision swam, she took stock of her surroundings. The remnants of a horrific dream, or was it a memory? clung to her like a shroud. A sliver of denial shattered as the horrifying truth dawned on her. It wasn't a dream. It was all horrifyingly real.

With a groan that scraped raw against her throat, Aanya attempted to rise. Her muscles screamed in protest, each movement a fresh assault on her body. The memories came flooding back in a relentless torrent, each one a fresh wave of terror and humiliation. Her breath hitched, morphing into a strangled gasp as she squeezed her eyes shut and clamped her hands over her ears, willing the images, the sounds, the very sensation of violation to vanish.

A frantic pounding on the door shattered the fragile cocoon of her despair. A voice, laced with childish worry, pierced through the fog, "Maa!" Aashvi. Her daughter. The realization struck Aanya with the force of a physical blow.

The pounding redoubled, punctuated by Aashvi's pleas. With a shaking hand, Aanya pried her fingers loose from her ears. The world rushed back in a dizzying cacophony, the frantic pleas of her daughter, the sterile silence of the room, the ever-present throb of her body.

Aashvi flung open the door, her eyes wide with alarm as she took in the sight of her mother – pale, disheveled, and teetering on the edge of collapse. "Maa!" she cried, rushing to Aanya's side. "Did you hurt yourself? Pitashri said you were sleeping. He was crying. Are you both hurt?"

Aanya forced a smile, a grotesque parody of her usual warmth. "No," her voice rasped, a mere shadow of its former vibrancy. She couldn't, wouldn't let her innocent daughter witness the wreckage of her world.

"No," she choked out again, the lie a bitter pill on her tongue. "I just fell down. You should go and play outside."

Aashvi's brow furrowed, her gaze flickering with concern. "But you are hurt," she insisted, her voice trembling.

Aanya's heart clenched. How could she explain the unexplainable, shield her daughter from the darkness that now clung to her like a second skin? Despair threatened to consume her, but a flicker of defiance, a spark of the motherly love that burned ever-bright within her, flickered to life. She wouldn't let this break her. Not in front of Aashvi.

"I said go, Aashvi," she said, her voice firmer this time laced with a newfound steel. Aashvi looked at her with a mixture of hurt and confusion before leaving the room, the weight of her unspoken worry hanging heavy in the air. Aanya collapsed back onto the bed, the choked cry that escaped her lips echoing in the sterile silence, a heartbroken mother, alone with the wreckage of her world, and the daunting task of shielding her innocent daughter from the fallout.

A searing pain lanced through her lower abdomen ravaged. Aanya pushed herself upright, using the bed for support as a wave of dizziness threatened to topple her.  Her reflection in the mirror was a stranger, a painful reminder of the vibrant spirit that had been so brutally extinguished. The once bright eyes were now hollowed out, haunted by a darkness that clung to her like a shroud. The clothes she wore, once a symbol of her carefree spirit, now hung limply, a grotesque reminder of the horrors she'd endured within the very walls of the Sabha.

A wave of nausea washed over her, the metallic tang of bile rising in her throat. Her heart, a leaden weight in her chest, ached with a sorrow so profound it threatened to consume her whole. She grasped at the table, desperately seeking solace in something, anything, tangible. But her fingers found only cold, unyielding wood. The dam within her broke, and a choked sob tore from her lips, echoing through the opulent chamber like a mournful wail. Tears streamed down her face, carving rivulets of despair that mirrored the wreckage within.