Sidratul Muntaha

Chapter 59🎭

Bismillahi Rrahmaani Rraheem•

Assalamualaikum warahmatullahi wabarakatuhu•

__________

Amiza settled down on the diwan and watched her bruised hands with a slightly melancholic expression. Once upon a time, her hands used to be the envy of others. She sighed and closed her eyes, leaning back on the diwan. Her hands pained terribly and were bleeding at some places. But that wasn't as tiring for her as the cracks in her heart that were threatening to widen and shred apart her carefully cultivated control. She was being punished... for sins, she herself had no idea about.

It had been nine days since she was married. Eight days, since her husband departed on the order of the king, his father. And that was the only comfort for her right now- the absence of her husband. The queen had unleashed upon her, a volley of tortures the very second he had reached the outer city limits and although they all were very subtle and carefully camouflaged as chores, Amiza had within some months already learned something about reading between the lines.

She had been made to cook for tens of people in the name of rituals and also she had, as a new bride swiped the courtyards of the queen and the princess because Baazigha had explained it to her that it signified her ability to keep her home clean, literally and metaphorically. Although Ratfa had never been shy of making both Adara and her work, she had never been used to cook for so many people at once, nor had she swept so much before. The whole exercise had left her tired beyond belief. She had then been asked to draw water from the well in the garden and water the plants. Baazigha said it signified her ability to nurture. Amiza doubted that it wasn't the case. The queen seriously disliked her and she was quite unsure of the reason behind it. Her hands had cracked while she handled the rough ropes of the well. But her torture hadn't ended there. She was soon made to crush the spices, as Baazigha gave some more obscure reason for the so called 'ritual'.

The eight days that had passed had been the most difficult days of her life. She had never felt as lonely as she had felt in there days. Her heart wept at the position she had landed herself in. She had no news of anyone from the mansion and she didn't know if Marwah had reached home safely. She had been cocooned in the palace and refused any information from the queen who wasn't in any mood for 'idle chatter' as she had put it.

Amiza sighed for the umpteenth time as she stood up and rubbed her hands all over her face. What was she even supposed to do? She watched her empty and cracked hands and then looked up towards the sky wistfully. Was this her destiny? To fight petty battles with a queen, who hated her for some reason... Sinking to her feet, she covered her face with her hands and let go off the grief that had began to accumulate her. The sobs that she heaved rattled the whole chamber, as it witnessed her breakdown. The dark green walls seemed to suffocate her punishingly.

"Adara!" She screamed in pain. "Adara..." She whispered next. "Why Adara? Why did you leave me? Please come back. Please. Hide me behind you once more. Hug me to yourself and treat me like I am a tiny baby that you have to cherish. That's what you do always. Do it for me one more time Adara." She heaved her words. She removed her hands from her face and laid down on the cold floor as she placed her cheek over it. The chill seeped inside her being. She closed her eyes as hot tears began to warm the floor. "I miss you so much Adara. I miss you so much. Fight this battle for me? You have done that before too, haven't you? How will I survive Adara?" Amiza cried as she began to lose her will to stay awake. She wanted to sleep and never wake up again. She was in her weakest moments right then. A person doesn't feel destroyed when he loses a fight, no, he feels destroyed when there is nothing to live for anymore. Amiza had lost everything that pushed her to live. The physical torture didn't faze her even if it pained a lot. What broke her was the feeling that she was truly alone in such a wide world. Everywhere she had turned in the past few days, she had seen nothing but hostile eyes and sneering lips. Each time they smiled at her, she could feel the poison seep within her veins. Each time they spoke, she could see the daggers that were hidden in their words. The jagged ends cut her deep. She bleeded her purpose to stay strong each time they cut her and finally she had fallen. She had given up. The will to live was deserting her.