Mansha’s POV:
Hushed voices are coming from outside, as the man begin to eat and the scent of roasted chicken and beef wafts in. I’m surprised when my stomach doesn’t rumble and mouth doesn’t water.
Khizer closed the door on his way out, and the room is shrouded in darkness, the only light coming from the small window. There’s a dull ache thrumming in my back, and my eyes are stinging.
But I hold on to the tears and will myself not to cry. Most would say they’re happy they’re still alive. And the tears would flow from their eyes out of relief for not being dead. They’d cry because they’re happy they got to ????. I’m not happy for that though, so I don’t think I should be crying. These aren’t tears of joy.
Some would cry out of fear of having faced death. They’d be scared out of their minds at the thought of almost having died. But I’m not scared either. Well, I am, but not of death. I don’t think I would’ve minded death. I don’t want to die, but death is better then a painful life. And the moments before I almost died are too painful to remember for the rest of my life.
And that’s not because I was in physical pain and there was a deep hole in my back. I was in pain because I was so helpless. And everything was so ????.
I couldn’t do anything to stop that man. And the reality of ??? I couldn’t stop him finally dawned on me. I couldn’t stop him because I am weak and naive. I got too overconfident, when really I didn’t even possess the power to deserve to be just confident. People like me are called ignorant fools.
We think we know everything. That we hold the power and control the world, and use that ability to do good for others. The ideal heroes, saving the world at our own expanse. When in reality, we’re people who underestimate our enemy and overestimate ourselves.
And that’s what brought me here, in this room, wearing clothes covered in my own blood and lying in a bed I’ve never even seen before, separated from a bunch of strange man by a single door. They could use me or kill me, and I wouldn’t be able to even move.
Perhaps it’s the feeling of defeat making my eyes burn.
Khizer was wrong. I did choose my enemy wisely. I’m proud of not giving up, not running away and not doing what they wanted. I did not pick the wrong battle. But I didn’t understand my enemy. I went to the battleground unequipped and thinking I had already won.
When really, the fight hadn’t even begun.
I finally let the tears fall, and faint whimpers fill the room. I feel so helpless and confused, I don’t know what else to do but cry. Every breath brings me pain, every gasp bringing with it double the tears. I keep crying, and promise myself this is the last time. I won’t cry again. I won’t let any of this happen again.
-××××××-
“How are you feeling now?” Khizer is standing in a corner, leaning on a wall with one leg up, arms crossed, as the doctor checks my blood pressure, asking questions in a monotonous tone.
“Fine.” I mumble. My eyes are closed. I don’t want to show how red they are, because of crying like a baby for an entire hour.
“Are you having trouble breathing?”
“No.”
“Do you feel dizzy? Nauseous?”
“No.”
“Did you sleep?”
“No.”
“Can you open your eyes so I can check them?”
??.
I open them. He picks up a small torch and shines it in each eye, before straightening up.
“She’s doing good for now.” He tells Khizer.
From the corner of my eye, I see him nod. “Any medicines?”
“Ali changed the drip, thats enough for now. I’ll be prescribing her medicines from tomorrow.”
“Okay. You should go rest now. I’ll take it from here.”
The doctor nods. “I’ll check up on her again in the morning, but then I have to leave for work. I can’t commit to anything after that.”
“I don’t expect you to.”
The doctor gives me a long look. “There’s still the risk of infection. Her recovery will take a lot of time, I’m not sure you should be keeping her here for long.”
Khizer sighs. “Let’s hope we don’t have to.”
They exchange a few more words. Any other day, I would’ve interrupted, made sure I decided for myself, but right now I’m parched and well, a little bit guilty. I shouldn’t have talked to Khizer that way.
The doctor leaves, and Khizer finally looks at me. He stands there for a long while, then walks over, stopping at the foot of the bed. I look up at the ceiling, but don’t close my eyes.
“Were you crying?” He finally breaks the silence.
“No, laughing.”
“Saying you cried is more believable then saying you laughed, and that’s not cause of your eyes either.”
I finally turn my gaze to him. He’s already seen my red eyes, so might as well glare at him. “Me not laughing has nothing to do with my humor and everything to do with yours.”
“Tell me that when yours is better then mine.” He shoots back, staring right back at me. For a while, we just stare at each other. Half of me is exhausted and just wants to sleep and the other half wants to ask the million questions jumbling up in my brain.
“Thank you.” I finally manage to say. He tilts his head to the side, like he always does, staring at me thoughtfully. “For helping.”
He shrugs. “It was just basic humanity and legally binding on me as well.”
I frown. “Legally binding?”
He nods. “Our contract. It says we have to help each other in times of emergency.”
I nod, and the pain that shoots up my back reminds me I’m still in bed with a wound. I try to keep my face straight. “Yes well, still. Thank you I guess.” I mumble.
“Your welcome.”
“Is there anything about this in the media?” I finally voice my biggest question.
He shakes his head. “I got you out before anyone saw, so there isn’t anything about an attack.” Oh. “But there was this breaking news about some kids that murdered a cow in your buildings parking lot for fun. She had wandered away from her drove, and they took her.”
I stare at him. “?????”
He sighs. “They said they took her body away before the media arrived…..”
No one will question that either. Cases where kids torture animals to death for fun are very common in Karachi. They’re frequent and extreme. One had some man who forcefully made a donkey drink acid for fun. The donkey died, the man roamed free, and the public didn’t bat an eye.
“If I had still been there, they couldn’t have hid this. I could’ve used this against them in court.”
“You would’ve died of blood loss. Or they would’ve come back and killed you, or taken you away.” Khizer replies sharply. “Tell me if I’m wrong.”
“If I were at the hospital-”
“You would’ve been as safe there as you were in the parking lot of your own building.”
“It’s not like this place is any better.”
“Only it ??.”
“It’s a random, dusty, old rickety house with-”
“A house equipped with the right equipment to have healed your goddamn wound.” He cuts over me.
“With a bunch of strange men.” I finish over him. We glare at each other.
“What the fuck are you being so stubborn about?” He snaps. “You’re safe and got the right treatment on time! What’s the fucking problem then?”
The problem is that I don’t know what to ??. I’ve caused this huge mess in my wake and I can’t do ANYTHING to right it. I’m powerless and unable to even move.
So instead of replying, I ask him another question. “Do you by any chance have my things? I dropped quiet a few.”
“I do.” But he doesn’t go to get them. Just stands there and stares at me.
“We still don’t know each other well enough, so you standing there and staring is just creepy, especially when I’m in a strange house which is apparently yours?”
He shakes his head no. “It’s just a sort of safe house. I come here… during emergencies.”
I slowly scan the room with my eyes. “You must have quiet a few if you have an entire house for it.”
“I do have some files and your phone.” I note the intentional change of subject.
“Can you give me my phone?” I won’t be going home tonight, so I’ll have to make up a story for that. It’ll be my first time spending an entire night away from home. I’m grateful to Khizer for that. If I were at a hospital, my parents would find out. And that’s the last thing I want.
“Sure, you should eat something as well.”
I almost shake my head, but catch myself a second before I do. “I just want to sleep right now.”
He looks at me for a long moment, contemplating whether or not to leave me be, then finally nods. “I’ll be outside. Call me if you need anything.”
This time, I remember not to nod. “Just my phone.”
He leaves the room, and I turn my gaze up to the ceiling. The white paint has faded to yellow, and I count six cobwebs. I wonder if any of them was built by a female who lives alone.