Bezubaan Ishq #Wattys2019 #MissionDesi

Chapter Thirty Nine

HELLOOOOO
I forgot I had to update 🙊

QUESTION : are you the type who folds pages while reading or do you use a bookmark?

I hate people who fold the page (especially if they borrow my books) and Sanam is that kinda girl😖😭😅 but hey, she is imperfect and that's what makes her special🤗

So cheeeesy! I know

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PAKEEZAH'S POV

"Main nahi samjhunga yah tumhaare paas kuch hai hi nahi samjhane ke liye?"

"Kya samjhau main? Samjha bhi doon toh kya aap samajh paayenge? Mazak ban jayega mera!"

The car stopped abruptly and as I jerked forward, the seatbelt rubbed against my skin, pulling me out of my thoughts. Our conversation was playing on loop in my mind. His loud voice, his accusations were hammering holes in my skull.

Hussain quickly took off his seatbelt and stepped outside. I looked away from His face instantly and turned my attention toward the main door of the house. While he went on to unlock the main door, I waited inside the car to calm myself down.

Realising he had to lock the car as well, I stepped outside and quietly went inside the house, avoiding his eyes that followed my every move. My palms were beginning to sweat when I stopped and stood still in the middle of the living room. This room suddenly felt empty and too cold for any kind of comfort.

"Come with me," I told Hussain as I decided to walk towards my room. Not that it was comforting but at least it was small and belonged to me. Without daring to turn on the lights, I kept my bag on the bed and reached for the back of my shirt. My hands trembled as I struggled to unzip it but it didn't take me that long. My skin felt numb and my heart pounded while I nervously waited for Hussain.

"Pa—ah, shit!" Hussain groaned as he entered the room and banged his foot against something, "Turn on the lights at least!"

I watched him reach for the light's switch through the mirror and my heart stopped for a moment. As the lights turned on, I shut my eyes tightly, not wanting to look at Hussain or his expressions. He could be rolling his eyes at me right now, thinking I am begging for attention, or might look down at me in disgust. He might show some sympathy but I didn't want either of those.

"What the hell?" I heard him mumbling behind me.

"Hell?" I scoffed, nervously, "Looking at these is not hell. What I have been through is hell."

"Yeh sab—" Hussain tried to speak but chose not to.

I chuckled again as I mustered up enough courage to slightly open my eyes. A chill rushed down my spine when I found Hussain staring directly at me through the mirror. He slowly reached out to touch my back and I jumped forward, away from his touch.

"aapne kaha tha na ki maine aapko phasaya hai?" I asked him but he didn't say anything.

"Main kya kisi ko phasaungi? Main toh khud phasi hui thi! Pata nahi kis baat ki saza kaati hai maine uss ghar main," my knees weakened with every word that came out of my mouth. I felt like I was floating in thin air.

Hussain looked away and ran a hand through his hair, messing up his perfectly styled hair. He can't even look at my scars and I have lived them!

"Ammi ne Taya ki har baat man'ne ko kaha tha. Unhein kya pata tha, na man'ne par woh mera yeh haal karenge?" I sighed, tiredly, reliving the pain of each and every scar. Suddenly my skin wasn't numb, I could feel the pain of every wound like it was yesterday when I was locked up inside that house, mostly in the basement, tortured and beaten up nearly everyday, "Kabhi chappal se, kabhi belt se, kabhi scale se, kabhi lighter se... Roz jo haath main aaye, usse berehemi se—"