Har raasta sahi ho ye zaroori toh nahi, har manzil mil jaye ye zaroori toh nahi,
Lahaasil hi rehnedo kuch manzilon ko, har fasana sach ho ye zaroori toh nahi.
The thunderous crash shattered the tranquility, ripping through the calm like a lightning bolt in a clear sky. The sound reverberated in her ears, sending shockwaves through her entire being.
In that heart-stopping instant, her thoughts led to the worst-case scenario. With trembling hands and a trembling heart, she turned to face the scene of chaos behind her.
Her senses heightened, and her breath got caught in her throat.
There was an accident in front of her.
A truck had collided with a car—with the car in which she had reached here. Her feet felt jammed.
Her pulse quickened as she beheld the scene before her—a scene of utter devastation that unfolded in the blink of an eye.
The car lay overturned, its once sleek frame now twisted and broken, like severely hammered metal. The front of a truck was completely destroyed, its massive bulk looming over the wreckage.
Glass shattered like a thousand stars falling from the sky, scattering across the asphalt like shards of ice. A crowd had already begun to gather near the scene, their voices rising in a chorus of confusion and concern.
Dinayah stood there transfixed, her eyes searching for that one person, hoping he would miraculously come out of the car.
He didn't. In fact, he was nowhere to be seen.
A surge of adrenaline flooded her veins. She knew she had to face the scene. With her heart lurching in her chest, she slowly moved forward.
The acrid scent of burning rubber reached her nostrils, mingling with the metallic tang of blood.
She hesitated for a moment, her eyes scanning the twisted metal and shattered glass before her.
Amidst the wreckage, she spotted the figure of a body lying motionless beneath the mangled car. Her breath caught in her throat as she drew closer, her steps faltering with each agonising moment.
The figure's head was obscured, hidden by a curtain of darkness, but she could see the telltale signs of injury—the trickle of blood seeping from a wound, the ghostly pallor of unconsciousness etched across his features, and several scratches marred his hands.
With trembling hands, she reached out, brushing aside the debris that obscured his face, her breath catching in her throat as she finally beheld the features of the man lying before her.
It was him. It was Arham.
A surge of panic welled up inside her, threatening to overwhelm her senses.
"Ar....Arham," she whispered, her voice barely a breath against the chaos that surrounded them.
Her trembling hands reached out to him. She hesitated for a moment. Then, her fingers threaded through his tousled hair as she tried to catch his head lying on the steering wheel.
To her shock, his head surrendered to her touch, collapsing into her hand like a lifeless thing.
A gasp escaped her lips.
His head rolled against her palm, falling into the length of her arms, unnaturally limp and devoid of any spark of life.
"Arhaaam," she shrieked.
"I think the man is no more."
"Yes, I too think that."
She heard the murmurs of the men standing in the crowd. For a moment, she was frozen, her mind struggling to comprehend what lay before her.
YOU ARE READING
Whispers Of The Heart
RomanceHer knees felt weak. She sat down on the last stairs. By now, the voices in her head had subsided, and her mind felt blank. With her racing heartbeat, dishevelled hair, and beads of sweat running down from her forehead, her state looked terrible. A...
