Gauhar's POV
As we grew silent, I noticed how dark it had gotten outside. I could see the entire city light up, under the dark clouds that were looming above. The moving cars appeared like tiny fireflies as they zoomed past each other, causing me to marvel at how insignificant we were.
"I want to go back." those five words suddenly caused a chill to fall around the room, the warmth disappearing like a puff of smoke.
I felt an unwanted bitterness well up within me, the ugly creature within me raising its head and spreading an unpleasant resentment with me. I couldn't shake the feeling that all the warmth we'd shared was a delusion and father's words served as a splash of cold water to rouse me from them.
His voice cut through the silence like a hot butter knife sliced butter. Melting away all my contentment from a few minutes ago.
It was funny how a few seconds ago we were all lost in our own thoughts, pondering over our deepest most secluded thoughts. Enjoying each other's company in silence, maybe even thanking God for the beautiful people around us.
But now we had been roused from our reveries as we all trained our eyes on father's face as one. The anticipation in this room was as palpable as the undercurrent of fear.
It seemed as if all of us had a vague idea of what was going to be said tonight and nobody was ready to face it.
He still appeared as fragile as he did a few moments ago, but his eyes… his dark eyes shone with resolve and, dare I say, a strange kind of contentment. I couldn't take my eyes away from his, my heart beat accelerating strangely as I processed the words he had just spoken. Unease spread like poison throughout my body making it difficult for me to breathe.
He wanted to go 'back'… the mention of that one word seemed to make the room feel a bit smaller than it did a few seconds ago.
"Back, back where Baba?"
Muqeet asked the words we were all wondering about, his face mirroring the confusion and hope that must be present on my own face.
I knew what he meant by back but I fervently hoped that I was wrong. I had the wildest urge to run away from this room, run away from all these suffocating emotions and breathe again. But I couldn't do it so I grit my teeth and braced myself.
As I dragged my eyes away from Muqeet's face that had gone white, his eyes filled with apprehension, towards my uncle's whose jaw was set a muscle twitching.
I felt my apprehension and confusion increase as he seemed to be calm. In fact his obsidian eyes seemed to be focused on something behind me, the faraway look in his eyes causing an unsettling feeling to settle in my stomach.
Did he already know about this? Was all of this planned? Why now of all times? A million questions swirled through my head.
I clenched the white bed cover tightly, as father took a deep breath. I gazed at him with building unease, unable to breathe myself as he said "Back to where I came from."
I felt like an invisible hand had wrapped around my throat, blocking all my supply of air. I closed my eyes to calm myself, unwanted and painful memories flitting across my eyelids made the tears sting on the back of my eyelids.
I took in a deep breath and opened my eyes, swallowing the lump that had seemed to form in my throat, I pushed aside the fear clouding my mind "Baba, what are you saying?"
I was afraid of the uncertainty in my own voice, I looked at Muqeet whose face had turned white, his eyes wide in disbelief as he took father's hand in his. Maybe trying to make sure he was alright.
I barely choked in the gasp that had built in my throat as I noticed that his hands were trembling. I knew he was as afraid of the meaning behind father's words as I was. It was as if we were back to being little kids, trembling against the ruthless current of life and bring swept away against our wills.
Leaving us scarred and broken.
I was still struggling to make sense of what he was saying when he continued, looking straight into my eyes as he tightened his hold on Muqeet's hand, the veins on his hand popping out.
It was difficulty that I forced a cap on the resentment that was boiling within me, I struggled against it afraid it would boil over and ruin what I had tried so hard to change so many years ago. I made myself remember how father had been there when nobody else had, how he was my support through every step in my life.
How much he loved us, how much he'd sacrificed. How he was here because of trying to protect us from the harshness of this world.
But all I felt was irritation. All I could see were foolish decisions that slowly pushed us towards our doom, this decision another one that was added to the pile.
"I am saying exactly what you heard Gauhar, I want to go back. Go back to the house where everything started, go back and do what I had planned twelve years ago." His eyes grew shiny as he stared at the ceiling, I could see his hold on Muqeet's hand tighten even more, as if her were summoning energy from the contact to continue what he was saying "I had never planned to stay here forever, but the prospect of the comfort and the luxury that this place provided had blinded me from my actual goal."
I staggered back, his words affecting me physically, as an uncontrollable jolt shook my body. I had suspected this the minute he had mentioned his intention to 'go back' but being uttered out loud made it all the more real. The weight of the decision was like a slap to my face.
I felt tears sting the back of my eyes as his words registered to my consciousness, my hold on the white sheets tightened to the point where I was afraid my nails would tear into it. But I couldn't let go, I needed to hold on to something, anything.
Because now I felt as if the ground had slipped from underneath my feet.
And I was falling into the abyss.
Far.
Far .
Down.
"Wha-" I choked on my own voice, swallowing hard I pushed on "What do you mean you want to go there Baba? I can't let you go there, not now, not ever."
I wanted to scream in protest. I wanted to shake him and tell him that this was the worst decision he'd ever make. I wanted to tell him that he was being selfish and that he'd lose me all over again if he went there.
But I couldn't. A warm tear trickled down my cheek and the moisture irritated me. It fueled the low burning rage that I had to force shut within me.
Although my voice sounded weak and completely unlike myself- fake. I made sure my eyes conveyed my feelings to him, I wanted him to see the anger in my eyes, I wanted him to see how selfish he was being when he was forcing us to face our demons all over again.
I could feel the façade of calmness that I had built around myself crumble as I remembered what happened before, and all my fears that I had learned to repress seemed to return back to me.
To haunt me.
To haunt Muqeet.
I felt a warm hand gently pry my fingers away, loosening my hold on the sheets as it took possession of my hand, wrapping strong reassuring fingers and gently squeezing them to remind me that I wasn't as I weak as I once was. That now I had the strength that I didn't have back then. I instantly recognised it to be my father's, and I held on to it, the comfort of his touch causing another tear to stream down my cheek.
I wanted to believe it, I wanted to believe him. God knew how desperately I yearned for it.
The silent feelings conveyed through his touch overwhelmed me, I was afraid to let him go away from me. I was strong, I wanted to believe that, I was a lot stronger than I was before.
I am stronger now…Right?
I could hear a faint voice inside my head scoffing at me, mocking my 'delusion' reminding me of my failures. Reminding me how everything had come crumbling down just moments ago. Reminding me of how he had looked at me when he d-
"Gauhar!"
"Gauhar don't go away!"
I could hear his faint voice calling out my name.
"Gauhar, come back to me, please." it was louder this time, I could feel the warm streams of tears falling down my cheeks, but I couldn't move, my hands and legs were bound.
I was being held and I couldn't escape.