Blooming Love

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(Tw: Death, Strong language, assault, violence)
Most dialogues are in Urdu because to me they sounded better that way. If there are any Non-speakers they can always ask in the comments 👐🏻

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It was the night of the doom, the torrential rain had engulfed the small valley by a storm as if nature itself wept for the impending demise that hung in the air, and the greenery that covered the mountains managed to look somber with the cascading rain. The skies were ebony black with the grey clouds shrouding them, hindering the moon from piercing through the gloom that enveloped the valley.

Hira noor stood in front of the vanity mirror, staring at her reflection that she abhorred from the bottom of her heart. A face that kabeer khan deemed beautiful stared back at her. Her thoughts were a whirlwind of self-loathing and bitterness. If only she wasn't beautiful. Her life would have been easier right? Kabeer khan was attracted to her because of her beauty. Hira noor stared at her celestial features with a grimace. The beauty that adorned her face was inconsequential, a facade, a layer. Behind her exterior, she felt like a lifeless shell of emptiness. The grey of her eyes mirrored the desolation brimming inside of her.
She anxiously scratched the scabbing wound on her wrist that was hidden away by a beaded bracelet that yashal gifted her. She watched as the wound got crimson again. She had nicked the wrist a little too
deep last night and the gash had bled all over the bathroom floor that she scrubbed squeaky clean.

"Hira. Hira. Nani ko medicine do"
Her mother yelled from the kitchen. Hira Noor hastily dabbed some tissue on the bleeding wrist, masking her despair draped a black shawl on her dainty shoulders, and walked out of her old room. Kabeer khan was out of town for a day, providing her a temporary solitude in the house. Hira noor walked inside the kitchen seeing her mother engrossed in stirring in a pot, her tired form leaning on the stove. The signs of the passage of time were evident on her upturned face. Her hair had started greying at her temples and slight wrinkles marred her face. The sweater that her mother wore was weathered down, losing the vibrant pink it once had. She had knitted countless sweaters for Hira Noor but refused to wear a decent sweater herself.

"Hira. Hira? Dehan Kahan hai tumhara?"
Her mother's snapping voice disrupted her streak of thought, causing her to snap back to reality. She looked at her mother who wore a frown of annoyance on her face.
Hira Noor was getting on her nerves lately with her constant daydreaming.
Yasmeen shook her head, her face contorted with exasperation as she poured some porridge into a bowl and gestured for Hira Noor to take it.
Hira Noor took the bowl from her hands and avoided her questioning gaze aware of the strain in their relationship.

"Make sure Maa eats something before taking her medicine. She has been nauseous all day and has a burning fever. When kabeer comes back. We will take her to the hospital in the big city"
Yasmeen advised her assertively as she added some seasoning to the pot. It was clear that Nani's condition required medical attention beyond what the small valley provided.
Hira Noor nodded silently and left the kitchen. Worry etched on her face at the gravity of the situation, the state of Nani's deteriorating health was concerning but the prospect of going to the big city for her treatment instilled a glimmer of hope in her heart.