This chapter contains themes of suicide/self-harm, please skip to the next chapter if you're uncomfortable with such themes
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They say your whole life returns to you before you leave the sack you've called yourself forever, and they're right, but what they don't say is that whatever you see then is brutally honest.
Myself Mukti Singhaniya. Being the first daughter in three generations, one would think I've never had a dull moment in my entire life, but even before the years I spent living this marriage fallacy my life was the same.
I was running aimlessly since the moment I was born, proving myself to earn what is given to others just for being born- love, and acceptance.
sadly, it took me a whole 38 years and a failed marriage to realise that what I should have focused upon was my own well being. So here I am, standing at the edge of a godforsaken river bridge, willing to end my life to pay for the sins I have committed by letting a devil of a man use me, in the name of love.
*
*
"are we doing the right thing?"
"yes, miss mukti. we've waited enough, let us be happy now till the end."
"till the end"
*
*
The end is here samarth and it's not what we wanted it to be. or at least what I wanted it to be like.
As the cold tip of gun kissed my temple, I no longer needed courage, i needed peace.
peace that comes along when your heart finally stops beating and stops with it the faint pain of betrayal.
I thought suicide was death, but it's not.
it's voices.
voices of a heart breaking,
of a truth bleeding
into another,
of a life giving up
of a body falling lifeless
on the cold ground,
of people shouting,
of...
...
...
....
....
beep
*
*
beep
*
*
beep
*
*
but
why are there so many voices?
and who is crying?
why does it hurt so much?
I can't be dead if it hurts
Why can't the gods give me what I want for once? why can't they let me die in peace?
there is some shuffling near me, and more voices. muffuled voices, this time.
".....husband?"
"Yes." It's not samarth.
my headache becomes more intense as the voices becomes distinct.
there is a faint beaping sound from my left.
"H- how is she doctor?"
Hospital, It's a hospital, and I can't open my eyes.
"there is a complete lesion in the motor system. Her sensory functions may not be preserved, and there are chances she might land into comma, so we'll be keeping her under observation for few hours"
"will she be fine doctor? will she get better?"
the beaping isn't faint or slow anymore.
"It's hard to say anything right now Mr rathore. Mrs Rathore isn't completely out of danger and especially with her recent miscarriage her condition is critical."
miscarriage?
are they talking about me?
i want to ask them but my voice won't cooperate. neither do my eyes, or my hands.
the beaping it's a lot faster now.
"Doctor!"
"get th...
the sounds are muffling again. Settling in a distance.
my baby..
why can't I do anything right?
why didn't I listen to anyone?
I shouldn't have acted so rashly..
but even if I didn't, I wouldn't have been able to give birth.
I barely had six months,
yes,
it's right,
the baby would only have suffered with me.
but why me?
why do I have to suffer like this?
why do I have to lose my baby over someone else's greed
I wouldn't have been drugged if I listened to the people around me,
would life be any different had I chosen not to marry him?
or maybe if we never met in first place?
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short chapter I know. but I wanted to seperate her suicide with the story further and it may be relatively short but her being pushed to the brink of self harm is a crucial part of this story.
but, the positive part is that we may jump to the good part now? So, are you ready? should I publish the next part right away?
(*￣3￣)╭
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Reborn (Releasing January 2024)
Romantika"Sometimes I feel like a doll. Breaking inside, piece by piece. Cursed for its beauty" For every prayer she sent, she only got misery. She lived her life resenting her family and fate. One day she discovers that her misery was not determined by fate...
