Devil Husband

Morning sunlight peeped through the nailed wooden barriered window just to remind me of my existence. That I’m alive. To bear another day of torture. The coldness of the floor penetrating through my skin as I tried to adjust my blurry vision. The silence around the room is the only companion in my miserable state. When I tried to get up, my famished body could hardly move without making me realize how vulnerable and weak I am. The chain around one of my ankles jiggled breaking the calmness as I try to rose up to my feet. Slowly limping on my way, I tried to reach near the door but a sudden tuck on my ankle crushed my frame back on the floor, knocking the breath out of my lungs. I lift my head up and peered back at the door, again. This time I crawled but like before my movement halted due to the chain in my ankle. After several failed attempts my hands lay empty. Defeated and disappointed I inhale deep breaths. Suddenly the door opened and I yanked my head to look at the

Aslan I stared through the opaque glass window at the beautiful night. The lights from the houses appeared as if stars descended down the sky and spread on the floor of the earth. I like to pass my handful time staring out of the window. This gives me a delusion that some stars can even land on the earth. But it's only my delusion. I told you. Such things can never happen in reality. And those lights are just cheap bulbs like my life which could be replaced anytime. There’s a saying that - Behind every successful man there is a woman. In my case it’s no different. Today I'm one of the top ten businessman. The credit behind my success only goes to her. She is the star in my darkness. The star whom I watched every night afar from that bench. My Zara. My star. People in the society gossips that she was born fortunate. The fate of her parents changed when she was born and mine the day, I met her. This sumptuous cabin, giant office, deluxe hotels, extravagant resorts and clubs , l

Zara. "She doesn't want to meet you, " my mother snarled at him. "She is my wife. My legally wedded wife. Do you get it. Nobody can stop me from meeting her. Zara.... Zara... " He kept on growling. His distinctive manly voice echoed outside the cabin. He was behaving like an unhinged animal. In the past I never got to witness this kind of unrestrained behaviour from him. He was sweet and caring until he got me completely in his mercy and only then he showed me his true colours. His ugly face. "I will stop you. Wait, let me call the police commissioner. Two days in the lock will teach you a good lesson." My mother retorted to which he scoffed. "Do you think he can stop me?” My heartbeat increased drastically hearing him. “No power in this world can stop me.” My whole body shivered in fear. I refuse to get dragged into that hell. His voice and the way he declared war felt like whips against my ears. I don't want to hear these voices. Mostly I don't want to hear him. I

"How are you? " His fake caring voice echoed after some time and my eyes lifts on its own accord. After everything he did to me, he has the audacity to enquire about my wellbeing. "She is fine." Before I answer him, my mother did rather sternly. She has always lacked kindness for him. He clenches his jaw squeezing his eyes shut for some seconds and I know how hard he’s trying to stay calm. The moment he opened his eyes they measured me from head to toe and then back to my face meeting my eyes. His burning stare heating my skin. How much he hates to see me with Rihan. But I tried to remain unaffected. I looked at the lying papers on the table. The one side of the blank space holds my signature which I did two days back. The other side is still empty. I kept staring at the empty space. "Zara, come back home," he said with longingness. Home? Which home? That hell of a kind. Why? To punish me Force himself on me. Tie me up. My mind recalled all the bitter moment spend with him. “I’

Aslan. My eyes travelled through the interior of the A-segment car. In my 11 years of age, I had never travelled in cars with my parents. We were not rich. We led a middle-class life until my mother felt sick. All the income of my father were mostly spent on her treatment. Although I had huge interest in cars but our condition didn’t permit us to afford a simple car. And today I’m sitting inside a lavish Mercedes Benz car. My body was stiff and my mind waited with an air of expectancy. The desire to own such cars buzzed inside my body. Maybe one day.The girl behind me who is sitting with her father was constantly chatting something. From her conversation it was clear that she was apple of her parents. Which is why her father agreed at her persuasion to bring me.Though I had agreed to live with them but my mind was anxious. Actually, it was difficult to manage the basic requirement of daily life. My days passed with only a one-time meal mostly which I get to eat in the hotel. So,