Chaos in the Canvas √

10 | homecoming

Fear settling in her heart, she waited for the door to be thrown open, but the slowness with which the door opened after a moment made her stomach drop as knots tightened in it. Eyes wide, she waited for Ibrahim to enter the room, but this time too she was proved wrong as a middle-aged, stern man entered in her direct vision.

The stranger had had his hands dropped beside him as he regarded Hemayal with steady but distant gaze, his face expressionless that reminded her of the known stranger she had encountered last night. The man stepped inside the room a little before he coughed slightly and began the conversation, his voice unusually polite and reserved, but hard nevertheless.

"We'll drop you back." He uttered and Hemayal's eyes threatened to burst out of the socket as his words registered in her mind.

This was it?

Truth be stated, she had not expected Ibrahim Yazdani to let go of her this easily; she had not thought that he would free her after only a night in his captivity. The demeanor that the man radiated last night had crushed all her expectations regarding freedom, his actions and words were too brutal. However, the man who stood in front of her right now spoke otherwise to her thoughts and she felt the first bud of hope blossom in her heart.

"I'm..I'm free to go?" She asked, still bewildered, eyes still wide open.

"Yes." The man had not given away any expression as he saw the colours returning to Hemayal's face.

Hemayal, too astonished to make a move, looked at the man who had come with the news of her freedom with an air of relief she had not felt in a long time. However, it vanished all together when the man took a few hurried steps in her direction, causing her eyes to widen again and she stepped back quickly, a reflex that almost caused her to fall on the ground due to her injured foot but she knew how to keep her balance even in this pain, years of yoga finally paying off.

However, the man did not invade her private circle and stopped a good few metres away, instead producing a blindfold from his pocket and everything became crystal clear all of a sudden. Sighing, Hemayal knew she was too weak right now to put up a fight, knew that the man would be anything but careful of the wounds that covered her face, so she did one thing the man never expected of her - she extended her hand towards him, palm open and directed upwards.

This time, the man did give expressions of shock, but they were short-lived and he immediately handed her the black blindfold. Hemayal caught the blindfold in the palm of her hand, eyeing its creases with that of her own mind and sighed, a deep, troubled sigh that reverberated in the room.

Raising her arm and slipping the blindfold in front of her eyes, Hemayal secured it tightly at the back of her head and witnessed darkness again engulfing her. Breathing turning rapid and other senses heightening, she waited for the man to make a move, which he did, after a few moments.

Holding her by the elbow, the man tugged her forward and she limped in the direction of the door, pain suddenly shooting up all the way across her leg as she took slow and cautious steps, directed by the man's grip on her arm which did remind her of the atrocities of last night.

Every single step she took, every breath she inhaled, every beat she sensed reminded her of the brutalities of last night, where everything was done by a man she thought was her savior, by a man she thought would never hurt a single hair on her head.

Hemayal had lost count of how many steps she had taken when suddenly, a cold gush of wind hit her face and she breathed a good volume of fresh air, her lungs returning to life, her mind clearing. She had no idea where she was right now, no idea where the man was taking her, no idea if she could even trust this man.