Yami

Chapter 24, The Dream Drama

Lost in an unfamiliar place, confusion and disorientation cloud my senses. The absence of my phone intensifies the uncertainty; I cannot locate my brothers. A decision forms within me – I must venture out to seek answers. However, the roads, the city – everything is foreign, unknown.Summoning the courage to approach someone, I inquire, "What is the name of this place, Bhaiya ji (Brother)?""Ye Chakrata hai beta (This is Chakrata)," comes the reply.The realization hits – I am 50 kilometers away from the mansion in Dehradun. Hitch-hiking becomes the only viable option, I curse mobile phones for not remembering any phone numbers. A truck approaches, offering a potential ride back home. Gratefully, I accept, and the truck driver, in an act of kindness, shares some food. Hunger momentarily sated, I find myself ruminating on the mystery surrounding my current state. How did I reach here? Why is my memory shrouded in a haze?Curiosity prompts me to inquire about the date from the truck driver. "What date is it, Bhaiya ji?""25 December, baby ji," he responds.Ten days have elapsed since my birthday – a realization that brings forth another unsettling thought. Did I experience another blackout upon returning from Anartha? The questions linger, causing my head to spin, and the answers seem elusive.

Desperate to ease the growing worry within me, I request the truck driver's phone, intending to call the police station near the mansion. My family needs reassurance, and I must let them know that I am safe. As I glance at the screen to find the necessary contact, shock courses through me once again. The date reads 25 December 2023, revealing a stark reality – two years and ten days have slipped through the cracks of my memory.

Caught in a surreal situation, I find myself paralyzed with uncertainty, unsure of the next course of action. The surroundings that once felt familiar now loom with an unsettling aura, prompting me to question my own sanity. Have I lost my mind? It seems the only plausible explanation for the disorienting experience I'm enduring.

In an attempt to regain some semblance of control, I decide to call the police station. My primary concern is to ensure my family is informed about my well-being. The truck driver's phone becomes my lifeline, a connection to the outside world that feels increasingly elusive.As I make the call, the truck driver continues to play unfamiliar songs, dancing to beats that seem to have emerged during the past two years. The shock of my memory lapse is met with an unexpected calm. Perhaps the bizarre encounters with mirrors and time distortions have prepared me for the inexplicable.I can't help but reflect on the irony of my situation. Having traversed through mirrors and witnessed the distortion of time, the memory gap I'm experiencing doesn't strike me as entirely surprising. It's as if I've become acclimated to the extraordinary, making even the mundane details of life, like that wish-dine table, seem paradoxically normal.

My hand throbs with pain, and as I glance down, I notice bruises marring my skin. A dull ache also permeates my legs. Perplexed, I turn to the truck driver, who, in a display of unexpected kindness, hands me water and a clean cloth to tend to the blood on my forehead. The realization hits me—what could have led to these injuries? I'm not one to engage in physical altercations; I prefer to please people, not fight them. Questions flood my mind. Was I attacked? Who would want to harm me? The confusion deepens as I grapple with the inexplicable bruises and the fog surrounding recent events. The mansion comes into view, and I thank the truck driver as I disembark, extending an invitation for water, only to be met with the eerie silence of an abandoned home.My disappointment intensifies as I step into the deserted mansion, devoid of any signs of life. The stillness is shattered when a police inspector unexpectedly enters, probing into my whereabouts over the past few months. Stumbling over my words, I admit to the gaps in my memory, confessing that the last two years remain an enigma. I recount waking up in the basement of a building and hitchhiking to the mansion, clueless about the events that transpired in the interim.The inspector, eyeing the bruises and noting my bare feet, wears a skeptical expression. "It seems peculiar, Miss Yami, to find a princess in such a state," he remarks, signaling the beginning of a mysterious journey to unravel the secrets concealed within the enigmatic folds of time.

Draped in a tattered white dress, its hem bearing the signs of wear, I take stock of my disheveled appearance. One earring adorns my ear, and to my dismay, the familiar bracelet, a cherished gift from my mother, is conspicuously absent from my wrist. It's an oddity, for there hasn't been a day in my life when I haven't wore it.

The journey to the hospital in the police jeep is a silent one, marked by the weight of unanswered questions and the unsettling absence of memories. Suddenly, a stranger appears, leaping in front of the jeep, calling my name. My heart races at the unexpected encounter, and as I step out of the vehicle, he envelops me in a tight embrace. The familiarity of the hug provides a strange sense of comfort, yet his face remains elusive, like a distant echo from the recesses of my forgotten past.As the stranger holds me in a tight embrace, questions swirl in my mind like a tempest. Who is this person, and why does he evoke a sense of familiarity that eludes my conscious understanding? Where are my brother? The mansion, once vibrant with life, now stands abandoned, a silent witness to the mysteries shrouding the past.

The biggest enigma of all looms large—what transpired in the two years that have vanished from my memory? The void is vast, and the answers seem to dance just beyond my grasp, teasing me with their elusive presence. I hope the journey ahead promises to unravel the threads of this intricate tapestry, offering glimpses into the forgotten chapters of my life.