♛ featured in wattpad india's #celebratingwomen reading list. ♛
❛ she walks on the path, that the letters had carved.❜
Have you ever heard of a Literature student dealing with guns and criminals? Probably only in Shakespearean art, but now we are in...
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━━━━♛━━━━ INAAYAT ━━━━♛━━━━
Well, I was kicked out of the agency because I had almost injured the officer who was teaching me how to aim a bullet.
Almost? Ina, the bullet scraped his upper right shoulder.
It wasn't my mistake in all honestly, he was forcing me to hit continuous shots and in the moment of a spur, I tripped on my feet and pressed the trigger of the gun.
Only, this time my aim was perfect.
"Inu you have to be more careful with your stance. You cannot make any grave mistakes there or else it can even put your life in peril." My father tells me as we walk towards the exit of the agency. Today was a very eventful day.
After the shooting session, they took me through a course of strenuous physical training. My health check-up was done and only then I was stamped as a perfect candidate for this job.
Pankaj still isn't sure about my recruitment because when I was leaving the main cabin, he sneered at me. Holding his right shoulder and wincing in pain, he has lost all his hopes for the case.
The drive to the college is cut short when my father stops the car right in front of an old building. It had visible cracks and worn out paint. The name board is hanging to a single nail, the gate is rusty. It is a society with just one small tower of six floors.
No one seemed to be present or living in there, only dried leaves made a sound as they were scrapped by the gushing wind.
My father directs me to get off the car and we walk towards the gate which screeches and makes a blood-curling sound that manages to scare my soul.
There are webs and cobs around, and everything seems to be cocooned in the dust. The air is filthy inside and manages to suffocate me while we stand in front of a black door. The moving of the rusted iron chains suddenly engulfs the silence, and the lift reaches the ground floor.
There is no light inside the small elevator cubicle, and I can feel how slowly the lift moves and a pang of fright grow in my heart.
When we finally reach the sixth floor, the entire scenario seems to change abruptly. The entrance was bad and uncleaned but the passage looks as if it is polished clean every single day. The tiles shine brightly and the air seems scented with musk and roses.
