Kyra (Complete)

Chapter Thirty One

Kyra felt every organ in her body begin to shut down slowly for lack of oxygen. Her heartbeat seemed to slow down and her neck seemed ready to break from the intensity of her father's fingers around it. She felt her knees buckle, unable to carry the weight of her entire body. The world seemed to be spinning around her and she knew her life was coming to an end.

Here she was, dying. After everything she had done, after how hard she fought, she was back to being at the mercy of her father.

She stared into the eyes of her assailant, his dangerously furious eyes seeming to behold her in mockery —she had lost. Did she think she'd ever win? What gave her the silly idea that she could fight him and win?! His eyes seemed to yell.

Her fingers weakened around his, unable to find the strength to keep clawing at the shackles that held her neck bound. It was such a painful way to die, to be denied of the very thing that constitutes life itself; oxygen. And to think that Anja was subjected to such a torturous death, to think that her precious mother was put through this much pain only helped heighten Kyra's fury.

Angry tears burned her eyes until she could no longer see. Pulling her eyelids shut, she decided she wouldn't die looking at her evil father. No, she wouldn't give him the pleasure of seeing the pain his hands inflicted on her, she would close her eyes and dream.

Somewhere in her frantic mind, she allowed herself slip into oblivion. It was a place where her father didn't exist. It was a place where pain and anguish and sorrow was foreign. She was all of a sudden back in Anja's arms as Anja's hands combed through Kyra's long locks of hair. Anja's soothing voice carried into Kyra's ears as she sang a folklore. Although Kyra couldn't see her face, she heard the love buried in those words until the feeling of being loved washed over her and she was all of a sudden floating in it.

Kyra was only just beginning to explore the world of joy and happiness when a door was forced open and like a nightmare, her father pushed his way inside. All of a sudden, the room became dark and Anja's horrified screams could be heard in the darkness. While Kyra fought to help her mother, darkness kept her mother hidden. She clawed uselessly at the darkness, desperate to rescue her mother even as her terrified screams tore through the air in the room. But it didn't matter how hard she fought, neither did it matter for how long she fought, the darkness prevailed and Anja's cries for help continued to worsen until Kyra thought her heart would rip open as a result.

Darkness must have lasted for an eternity, until Anja's cries for help ceased. Then, light returned, bringing with it the revelation of Anja's lifeless body, sprawled on the floor, face to the ceiling. Her eyes stood wide open, eyelids bulged in horror as her lips hung open as well. Yet, those lips produced no sound, neither did her eyes seem capable of seeing Kyra's tears.

Knees weakening, Kyra fell to the floor before her body, her arms reaching out to gather her. She shook her, failing to awaken her.

“Maa.” It was a useless cry for her mother, but one she could not help even if she tried.

“Maa!!!” She tried again, shaking her mother harder this time. “Maa, please! Maa, please! No, please, Maa!” Her voice rose with every word, her plea even more desperate than the last.

Yet, Anja was insistent on lying still and turning a deaf ear to the desperate cries of her daughter.

Did Anja know how hurt Kyra was? Did she know how much Kyra needed her? Where was Anja when she was needed the most? Who would hold Kyra now? Who would comfort her? Who would shield her from this horrid storm, or mend her shattered heart? Whose kisses would take her pain away? In whose arms will she find safety?

“Remember what I taught you?”

Her head jerked up, her mother's voice filling the room. “Maa?!” She rose to her feet, her eyes scanning the empty room but seeing nothing. 

Suddenly, she was outside. She was standing by the door, her mother's familiar form standing there with her arms around something... Or someone. Was that her?

She frowned, noticing then that her mother was hugging her.

The scene appeared familiar, her sari similar to the one she had been wearing the day she married Vihaan. Perhaps it was? Everybody was dressed for the occasion, but as she looked closely, she realized then that her mother was crying, her face reflecting the kind of pain Kyra had never seen in her mother. She knew her mother was abused, but Anja never showed fear, pain or even sadness. It didn't matter what happened, Anja was Kyra's strength.

It was then, as Kyra watched her mother, that she realized her mother had been putting up a show all of those years. This sad, worn out, hurt woman, was Anja. This was the Anja who feigned strength so she could give her daughter a semblance of a normal life.

Why didn't she ever notice?

“You don't get to let him hurt you.” Anja whispered softly against her shoulder, her eyes shifting up to Kyra who stood by the door watching the memory she was certain was of the day of her wedding. Anja's eyes locked with hers, and in that second, Anja shook her head. “Be strong, stronger than me.”

Kyra stood there, tears filling her eyes as she watched her mother disappear, the sudden determination, strength and will to live, filling her.

“Wake up, Kyra!” She ordered, slapping herself hard across the face. “Wake up!”

Air filling her nostrils suddenly, her eyelids snapped open, her knees giving way beneath her as the hold around her neck loosened and she fell to the floor, fighting to fill her lungs with oxygen.

Copyright © 2017 Lily Orevba All rights reserved.

*

A/N

Hey you guys. Small reminder to please vote...