ArHi FF: Broken Melody - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Help

As she swallowed her fifth shot of tequilla, the world around Khushi became a whirlpool. She shivered, relishing the fiery sensation flooding her veins. Cindy had been right. Coming to the club had been a great idea. In the midst of the deafening music, the tornado of Torontonians and the hundreds of alcoholic drinks, she could barely remember the chaos in her life.

Speaking of Cindy, where was she? She swiveled around in her chair and squinted. Focussing after such a flurry of drinks was close to impossible. She vaguely recalled Cindy's voice gushing over the crowd of eligible bachelors. But that was that. The rest seemed to be a blank spot in her memory. And now? Now Cindy was nowhere to be found.

Khushi closed her eyes as a sudden wave of dizziness washed over her. Of course. The after-effects of the alcohol. She winced at the sour taste of her bile, feeling sick at once. She shakily made it to her feet as the nausea kicked in at last. This was not good. She turned to the bar tender. "Where's the washroom?" But her voice came out as a choked whisper. The tender was well into his 80's and probably hard of hearing. He was completely white. His hair, which was balding towards the centre, his skin, his mustache, and his beard. Just replace his white shirt and overalls with a red suit and he'd be the ideal Santa Clause. She bit back the bubbling laughter that the mental image conjured. Whether it was for sheer politeness or the fact that she was going to puke any minute now, she didn't know. "Where's the washroom??!" She repeated, louder this time. Luckily, she had his attention. He motioned with his thumb to the left side of the room. She blinked, trying to focus. Sure enough, there was a door...or something of it anyways. The drinks were proving to be experts in vision distrortion. Ugh.

Khushi stepped away from the bar, unable to think straight, let alone walk straight. But as she slowly made her way into the crowd of sweaty people, the nausea got the better of her. As if in reflex action, she covered her mouth, increasing her effort to walk by two-fold. With each footstep she took, she felt all the more sick. For a moment, she didn't think she would make it to the washroom at all! But she had to. For the sake of her own reputation she had to. Khushi could already hear her friend's voice admonishing her. "I told you to put down those drinks! Why do you bother drinking if you can't hold in your liquor?" Ugh. She was dreading it already.

Suddenly, Khushi felt a warm hand grip her wrist. She gasped, wincing at both the surprise of the sudden movement and the immediate pain that coursed up her arm. The next few events happened too quickly for her to register. Before she could get a grip on her racing heart, she was whisked away from the crowd and dragged into a particularly empty corner of the club.

This part of the club was quiet and it held no greater than five people with the exception of her and her pursuers. Most of them had passed out drunk and the remaining few probably weren't sober enough to even think properly. Khushi gazed down at her arm, feeling it numbing under her captor's tight hold. Slightly dazed, her eyes rose to meet his. Shockingly blue. Chilling. A shiver ran down her spine and her eyes lowered as if on their own accord. He had a cold grin plastered to his face as his hot gaze travelled gradually across her body. Behind him, trailed four other men, with a strikingly similar resemblance. "Heyy... looky here boys! We got ourselves a girl for the night! 10 dollars an hour... whaddaya say baby...?" An echoe of laughter with murmurs of agreement followed.

"L...let me go..." Khushi declared, speech slurred. Her nails dug into the skin of her pursuer as she tried violently to pry him off. "Fiesty eh? We like that... don't we boys?" He whispered hotly. He bent forward, giving her ear a hard nip. Khushi recoilled. His breath smelled of fresh alcohol against her skin. They were drunk beyond limits. "I said...l..let me..go...." Their cold laughter seemed to bounce off of every wall in the club. Help. I need help. She thought to herself. It was the only thought in her mind. Help. "Leave... me.. alone!" She screamed.

They began surrounding her. Forming a tight circle. "I said let me go!!!" She blinked back the tears threatening to fall as she tried to find a form of escape.They were her predator and she, their prey. As they made their way into her, the dread within her deepened. The dread, as well as the reality of the situation. She was trapped. And there was no one even remotely sober to help her. Falling to her knees in defeat, she whispered one last time, "Please... You...you don't have to... do this..." But to no avail. The last thing she remembered was seeing her favourite red cardigan pulled off of her and ripped into shreads before she collapsed into mind-numbing darkness.

ArHi FF: Broken Melody - Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Strangers

The front door closed with a click as Khushi stepped out. She looked very much as she had in the morning, save for her hair, which she had given a few extra brushes. Her only accessory was a black purse in hand which contained a notepad, an iPod a few emergency dollars and a cell phone. Make-up was not a word in her dictionary. If anything, a dab of lip gloss. But she hadn't touched that in over three years.

Khushi gazed at the scene around her. Toronto was so different from India. It was said to be the busiest metropolitan area. And it stood up to its name. It was the perfect place for her. It wasn't difficult to drown amongst the crowds of people here. Each person here was too busy trying to sort out the problems in their own life to care about a stranger's. Khushi liked that. In the three years that she had lived here, she had come to accept Canada as her home. She felt somehow accepted here, for what she was. Somehow, the place just screamed for a fresh start. She closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of the cool fall wind brushing her skin. Yes. This was home.

She descended the five steps off her porch and stepped onto the sidewalk, suddenly dreading the remainder of her day which consisted of standing at a counter with a fake smile glued to her face. She was a cashier at a local bookstore. Not exactly the most thrilling job. And though the pay wasn't the greatest, she managed to get by with it. That's what her life was all about. Wake up, work, come home, eat, sleep. A repetetive routine. Sighing, she pulled the zip of her sweater up to her neck and began walking the two blocks to the book store. As she walked, she pulled out her iPod, plugging the headphones into her ears to block out the noise around her. She felt herself relax at last as the music began to flow. Perhaps this wouldn't be such a bad day after all.

Suddenly, she felt a hard hand shove her from behind. "Hey! Watch it!" She snapped, before turning around and glaring at her assailant. For a minute, she couldn't breathe. When she turned, she found herself gazing into the most beautiful pools of chocolate that she had seen in a long time. His eyes. Something about them was so different. It sent cold shivers up her spine. The rest of him was as normal as an average passerby. A nice build, casual clothing. Nothing out of the ordinary and yet she felt so drawn to him. His lips formed an amused smirk as he took her in. The angry yet innocent eyes, the pout on the lips, the frown her eyebrows made when she glared at him.... He shook his head trying to think straight. "Great advice," He shot back, "but I think you need it more than I do. You were about to get run over by a car." He stated matter-of-factly. "If I wasn't here, you'd have been done for!" He chuckled. Khushi's eyes grew wide. What the? He's trying to flirt Khushi. Just ignore. You would have seen it if there was a car coming. Of course you would have. Just look at him. He even looks like an expert liar. He smiled, as if reading her thoughts and reached over, pulling the headphones off her ears. "Next time, try to be more attentive when crossing the road." Khushi's mouth dropped open in shock. "Excuse me, but who the hell do you think -" He laughed, before casually strolling away from her. "You can thank me later!" He yelled, his back still faced towards her. Anger bubbled within her as she retorted, "There will never BE a later!" He turned, continuing to walk (now backwards). "Nuh-uh-uh! Never say never!" He declared, giving a final smirk of victory before disappearing into the crowd. "Idiot." Khushi stuttered, furiously. "I hope I never see that egoistic loser's face ever again!" Still glaring in his direction, she defiantly shoved the headphones back into her ear before trudging off in the direction of the bookstore.

"You're late." Admonished her best friend Cindy as she entered the shop breathlessly. Khushi rolled her eyes, unamused. "Yeah, thanks Genius. I totally didn't know." Cindy chuckled, her eyes crinkling up brightly as she did so.

"No problem. So what was it today? The dream or visions?" Khushi groaned. A migrane was on the way for sure. "How about both?" Her friend nodded, sympathetically. "Want me to grab you a coffee? I'm headed out for my break now anyways." Khushi shook her head. "Naw, I'm good thanks." She bent down, reaching for the box of new books. They would need to be shelved. Sighing, she grabbed them by the handfulls, arranging them by genre.

"Hey..." Cindy declared, slowly. Her hand was on the handle of the door as she prepared to leave. "Hey, I was wondering.... Do you want to go clubbing tonight?" Khushi looked at her, wondering if she was serious. "Cind, you know how much work I have today don't you? I've been on sick leave for the past week! I've a lot to catch up on. I'm going to be working after hours today.... I'm sorry...." Cindy moaned, flailing her hands in the air. "Oh c'mon Khushi! Stop being such a bore! You're having a rough day today anyways! So what's the problem? Chill with me at the club! Have a coupla' drinks! It'll be fun! Haven't you ever heard of the word?!" Khushi rolled her eyes. It was amazing how dramatic her friend was. "Ok, alright! Fine! I'll see if I can make it! But I'm not making any promises!" Cindy tosssed her a relieved smile. "Cool! I'll be waiting for you then!" She winked before hurrying out the door. Khushi shook her head, chuckling. The craziness she had to deal with.

ArHi FF: Broken Melody - Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Visions

Khushi awoke, drenched in sweat. Her black hair fell stickily on her wet skin and her hands were cramped from the night-long grasp on the bedspread beneath. Khushi's head was spinning. It was the same dream. The very dream that had been haunting her nights. Yet again. The only difference was, with each passing time, the dream grew increasingly deadly. It took all the strength within her to convince her limp body to stand. Slowly, shakily, she moved to the white-washed wooden dressing table beside her bed. She gazed at herself in the mirror, wondering whether this was the same Khushi Kumari Gupta staring back at her that she had seen three years ago. She knew the answer of course. Since her marriage, nothing had been the same anymore, much less her. The eyes that gazed back at her were not hers. They were cold. Hard. Unforgiving. The twinkle that she had grown accustomed to seeing had long since disappeared. Her cheeks had lost the red glow that once lightened them. If anything, she looked paler than she had in the past two days. No improvement there. Her lips. The biggest change appeared here. She couldn't remember the last time she had seen them upturned into a smile. It was as if she had entirely forgotten how. She looked lifeless.

Her eyes fell on the dressing table, taking in the white medicine bottle by it. It helped to cure depression - the common disease that she had supposedly come down with. It remained untouched. The table was empty, save for this medicine bottle and a black mangalsutra lying in a heap. Mangalsutra. A sign of marriage. Of love. Of companionship for seven births, perhaps more. The promise of trust, faith and future. All of which she had lost with her husband. She closed her eyes as the memories washed over her. You left me. She whispered. Even after three years, the wound felt fresh. Everyone said that it would be alright. That time would heal it all. They were lying. With time, the pain only grew worse. As reality sank in, the scars became more and more real. Life became all the more unbearable. Khushi's hand slowly snaked across the dressing table to the black thread reminding her of the past. The mangalsutra. It felt cool to her fingertips. Almost comforting. Like ice on an injury. She had kept it as a reminder of him. Not that she needed one. The ache in her heart was enough of a reminder for decades to come.

She was just about to release her hold on the thread when all of a sudden, she felt herself tumbling into a pool of darkness. Oh god no. She thought ferverently. Not again. Not the visions. Despite having received the visions all her life, she had never gotten used to their startling appearances. It was the same sensation every time. A strong force, pulling her against her will into the depths of darkness. And then the voices would start. Just slow, rythmic noises at first, which would morph into voices with the progression of the vision. The images would appear sometimes diffused as a reflection in unstill water and other times as clear as pictures in a television. Usually it was the former, as it was this time. The noises were mixed at first, sounding almost staticy. There were multiple voices. Speaking at once. It was total confusion. Khushi couldn't make out one voice from another. She craned her neck, trying to listen, trying to concentrate. But it was no use. Slowly, the noises separated, become well-defined, voices. "It's good she's getting married." piped up a voice. It seemed so familiar. So...near. "She'll be able to forget the past and move on." I knew this voice. Think, Khushi think. Suddenly, it hit her. Jiji. The scene changed from her sister to the mandap. It was as if she was watching a movie. Except, the remote control was not in her hands. Visions would show as they pleased. Loud music blasted in the wedding hall. Shehnayis. Large containers of food sat lined up against the beige walls, holding everything from South Indian and North Indian to foreign delicacies which were unheard of. The constant echoe of laughter and chatter was present as people walked back and forth underneath the tall arches of the entrance. The hall was decorated lavishly. Flowers bordered the walls in every possible pattern. Her favourite flowers. Red roses. The symbol of love. Elegant chairs were placed in neat rows with white cloths strewn on top of them. And then she noticed it. The young girl. Sitting in the mandap, arms around her knees with a pallu covering her face. A man was beside her. The groom. "Please tie the mangalsutra around the girl's neck." Declared the pandit, momentarily pausing his prayers. The man obeyed. Khushi squinted, trying to get a proper look at the bride. But it was no use. The pallu was placed in such a way that her face was hidden entirely. "Please apply the vermilion at the parting of the bride's hair." Unquestioningly, the man obeyed. And then it happened. The groom, in an effort to put the sindoor on her head raised her pallu slightly upward. Her entire face could not be seen but what Khushi saw was enough. Her eyes. They were cold. Hard. Unforgiving. Her eyes. Khushi was staring at herself. She was the bride.

When she was jolted away, she found herself on her knees, her nails etching into the cold, wooden floor. No... She whispered. What she had seen could not have been the truth. It...It didn't make sense. I will never marry.... She thought. It doesn't make sense. Her heart leapt a mile in the air when she heard the shrill ringing of her cell. She pulled herself up, trying to gain composure. It will never happen. I won't let it happen. She whispered to herself before clicking the "answer" button on her phone. "Do you know how many times i've been trying to call you?!" Shrieked a voice on the opposite end. Payal - her jiji. Khushi winced, moving the phone away from her ear. "Where were you?! I was even about to try your boss's number!" Khushi sighed. Her sister. Her silly, concerned, irritating but lovely sister. "Sorry jiji.... it was just.... nothing." There was a brief pause. "You had the visions again," Payal whispered, making it seem more of a statement than a question. "Yes..." she replied, easing herself onto the bed. "Do you want to talk about it...?" Payal asked, hesitantly. She shook her head, forgetting for a moment that her sister couldn't see her actions. "No," Khushi mouthed quickly. "I'll be ok." She heard a soft sigh. "Sometimes I really worry about you Khushi...." murmured Payal. And that was that. She wasn't the only one who was worried. Khushi was too. But about problems entirely different. About what she had wittnessed in her vision. About her marriage. I'll never let it happen... She whispered. Never.