There's something about an empty house that rubs Shahana Arora the wrong way. She despises - hates it. The space within the walls is hollow enough for her blood-curdling screams to bounce off them. Her footsteps echoed in the sinisterly quiet evening, begging for another pair to be a companion in this state of solitary confinement. The fraying threads of the cushion covers are triggering to a crude mind looking for a source of comfort that would otherwise be found in the arms of her mother figure sitting down on that couch- hiding the bits of her fraying self.

A deserted house learned to stand tall and seek out the sun's warmth for survival, like a tree looking for rejuvenation from its duties as an oxygen provider. Shahana wished she could enclose her spirit into those floorboards. She knew that they would shiver in the nights of cold winds but it would adapt to that stormy weather. It would accommodate the company of dust and the odour of nothingness. With time, its memories and existence would be forgotten- solitude for those unable to cope and keep up with themselves. In its fading tenderness, the benevolence of a mother and amiability of a sister would always remain.

She paced relentlessly across the living room, taking a glance at the front door ever so often. The kinesthetic movement swarms over the surface of her curtailing strength against resistance. She stands steady as the waves crash, one after another, losing their momentum ever so slightly. Just as she was about to give up the pacing and leave to look for her sister, the entrance opened.

There she stood, clothes laden in the dried blood of a dear one. Breathe. Shahana gulped and narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing Prachi as she inched closer.

"Where were you! Do you have any idea how worried I was? How is Massi? Is she okay?" Shahana shot her questions one after another, shaking Prachi who had just walked in by the shoulders. She gave her a quick once over to make sure she did not overlook any of her own injuries in the mix of her mother's accident. Once satisfied she fixed her with a pointed look. "Well?"

Prachi gently got Shahana's hand off her. "I was at the hospital," she said, moving around the other girl to sit on the couch, leaving the fraying ends covert in the process.

It eased Shahana's mind just a little. "That's it? Is that all you have to say after disappearing the whole day without a trace? You have a phone for a reason. when someone calls you, answer it. Oh not to mention that you gave me a call at four in the morning to tell me that your mother has been hit by a car in the hospital. After which you gave me another call telling me to stay put."

"I know you are upset..."

"Yea no kidding." She snapped.

"But," Prachi pressed, ignoring the interruption. She knew that her sister was deflecting her fear with anger. It was easier to quell anger than to reassure the frightening thoughts that wander well beyond its marked territory. "Everything is under control now. So take a breather. Mom is fine, I wouldn't be here right now if she wasn't."

Selling her soul to the house wasn't an option. She was a running gas pedal, the steering wheel miles away from her reach. Even if she could reach it, it was slippery beneath her trembling hands and sweaty palms. Massi isn't here. "Everything is under control!" she shouted, vexed. "Prachi, Massi is in the hospital right now because someone ran her over and you didn't tell me until so much later."

"I know and I am sorry for that. There was so much going on and it just slipped my mind."

"Slipped your mind? We almost lost Massi and it slipped your mind to call me? I expected your first instinct to be just that, calling someone you trusted. And I couldn't even see her before the visiting hours ended. I need to see that she is fine, Prachi!"

Her tone expressed anger but Prachi could read those glassy eyes- they scream fear and insecurity. "Shahana, I know your pisssed. I am sorry for not calling you earlier. I didn't mean to hurt you or make you feel any less of yourself."

Shahana stopped parading back and forth. I am not hurt, Prachi. I am scared.

"All I could think at that time was making sure mom was okay, that we," Prachi stood us and took baby steps towards the livid girl. "Don't lose anyone else we love," once she was within arm's length, she held Shahana's hands firmly. "Not again."

"We almost did," she whispered, keeping her sight at the window behind her. It allowed for fresh air to enter the little house they owned. A whiff of it was addictive- cool and serene. "After mom and dad... I can't go through that. Not again. And no matter how much I wish it wasn't true, we almost lost the only person we have left."

"But we didn't. Mom is fine. She is resting in the hospital as we speak. You can visit her first thing in the morning tomorrow. okay?" When Shahana remained tense she added, '' I am here aren't I?"

I am glad you came back when you did. God knows what I would have done if you had been a second later.

"We are not going to lose anyone else. You are not going to lose anyone else. I promise."

Shahana meekly raised her eyes to meet Prachi's "pinky promise?"

Prachi their fingers. "Pinky promise. We are going to be fine."

Shahana wiped at her non-existent tears with a determined nod. She had learned to control them in times where they fought with the strength of a gorilla to suppress the sanctuary's gates. "We will be after I find that soon to be dead person who was behind the wheel. Speaking of which, let's go to the authorities to report this."

This was the part Prachi dreaded, she had thought about how to avoid this topic the whole ride home. Shahana was protective when it came to family. No one would get away scot-free after pulling a stunt like this one. Unlike every other occasion, Prachi found herself unsupportive of Shahana's decision. Riya wasn't completely at fault. She was just trying to save the puppy.

"About that," She started off, hesistence lacing her tone. "We are not involving the authorities in this."

Shahana jerked her pinky away from where it was intertwined with Prachi's. "I beg your pardon."

"We are not lodging a complaint against who was behind the wheel. It wasn't her fault," she said, choosing her words carefully. "She was trying to prevent the puppy from getting hit. Mom just got caught up in the crossfire."

There were only a handful of things Prachi held a grudge against-her absent father, bullies in school and the people who hurt a family. Yet, she was kind and forgiving in a way that was sometimes deleterious to her own wellbeing.

However, there was always a line drawn to that selflessness. "Tell me you're joking. This is some kind of prank just to get my mind off Massi." Shahana vigorously shook her head, searching for reasons in a conversation devoid of their existence.

"I am aware of how bad that sounds but shahana, she really wasn't at fault. I spoke to her and..."

"You speak to everyone! That is who you are. You're nice and trusting. You look for the best in people. I am not that much of a saint. Which is why right now, I need you to come out of your bubble and be a little practical."

"I am being practical," she said calmly. One of them had to maintain a balance. "I've made this decision after careful consideration."

Shahana folded her arms in front of her chest. "And what did you consider when partaking in this ludicrousy?"

Prachi couldn't recognize this instinct to protect Riya but she did it anyway. "The circumstances in which this happened. She didn't mean for any of it to happen. There was a puppy in the way. To save it, she had to take a turn. It's not her fault mom was standing there."

"Are you seriously blaming Massi for this?" Shahana questioned raising her histones. Her hands were itching to reach for the fidget cube on the table. She scratched her palm in a last-ditch effort to occupy them and keep from doing something she wouldn't be proud of later.

"I am not!' Prachi shouted but quickly regretted it. She took a deep breath and attempted to hold her hands again. She knew the signs. "I am saying that no one is to blame for this. It was what it was. An accident."

"I can't believe that you're letting the person responsible for this off the hook." Shahana scoffed quietly, backing away from her sister.

This is why we need you mom. We can't do this without. Please come back. She crossed her fingers on top of her heart for a moment when Shahana was busy staring at the fidget cube, sending a silent prayer to the heavens. She is fine. There's no reason to think of any other outcome. Everything is going to be fine tomorrow.

Scratching her eyebrow she cleared her throat awkwardly to get the attention of her furious sibling. "I am going to change out of these bloodied clothes," she picked up her bag, heading towards the bedroom. It was for the betterment of them both to be left alone for the time being. "We'll go see mom tomorrow morning."

"Whatever," Shahana retorted. She ran a hand through her hair, training to calm her pulsing nerves. She wasn't giving up that easily. If Prachi wouldn't do anything, shahana would. "Who was it?" she asked before Prachi could completely close the door, catching her off guard.

Prachi fumbled to give a satisfactory answer. "I..." Saved by the bell. Her phone started ringing in a steady beat and Prachi thanked her lucky stars. She knitted her eyebrows a little seeing the caller ID flashing across her screen. Why did the hospital call me at this hour? "Prachi Arora," she answered.

Her frown deepened as the caller spoke. "I'll be right over." She thanked them in a strained tone and hung up.

Shahana had made her way towards Prachi seeing her nod with a confused smile. "Who was that?" She asked, earlier query forgotten in an instant at the look.

"The hospital. So change of plans, we are heading there now." Prachi went into the room to change into a clean pair of clothes without further elaboration. Her mind worked in overdrive to process the information the receptionist had just delivered.

"Is Massi okay?" Shahana turned to her bag, stuffing her belongings without much concentration on the items being stored. She contemplated bringing the cube along before sighing and dumping it in. It was going to be a long day.

"Yes, she is. But has mom ever mentioned anyone by the name of Kiara?"

"No? why?"

"Well, we are about to find out who that person with such a beautiful name is."

---Fading In The Sun---

Arriving home to a place that doesn't feel like home, never has. All pristine white walls of a mansion, modernly built, catering to the aesthetic of extravagance. Basic, plain, hollow, no real emotion or thought put into it, devoid of any real warmth. Riya strolls in before morning, her eyes lost in turmoil. Quietly, trying to make as little noise as possible in the dark.

"Where have you been?" Suddenly, a lamp light illuminates the area. Her eyes widen, then narrow, then shine.

"Geez, Dad, a little warning next time?" Riya dramatically rests a hand atop her heart. Choosing to settle for playfulness.

"I have been waiting for hours, where have you been?" Abhishek Prem Mehra reiterated, not allowing her to change the subject. Seated on the couch, hands folded, looking down upon her from his throne perpetually.

"You've been waiting? Here I thought you were much too busy to wait." Riya mocked, feigning surprise.

Abhi's folded hands wound tighter around themselves- this again. "Meera phoned, you weren't home the entire day, where were you?"

At the hospital, scrubbing Prachi's mothers' blood off her hands to numbly trapped in her car afterwards. The events of yesterday looped in her brain, torturing herself.

"Partying." Riya retorted. It's what was expected of her, might as well remain true to it- a perfectly cultivated reckless and wild image of herself for the rest of the world. To better put it, a messy izzat.

"Partying? You've been missing for a day, you bunked college, for what huh? Only to party, do you have any idea how worried I've been?! You need to become more serious-!" Abhishek rises from his seat as does his voice. This nonchalant attitude of hers is what triggers him on a day-to-day basis. He is her father, even then he is unaware of the real her, he doesn't stay around enough to know her in the first place.

Riya's anger is easily triggered as his' is, she's the same as him, they do not fight each other, they fight themselves, yet do not realize. His posture is defensive, so is hers.

Why is it that the space between them is only diminished when they're yelling?

"If I need to be serious, then you need to stop pretending! Do you actually think I would believe that you've sat here waiting for me? The only reason you knew I was even missing is because Aunty Meera told you! Otherwise- we both know how precious your time is, time is money, you've said so yourself. You don't care about anything else, you've proven time and time again!! Wealth above all, am I right? Even above family-."

"Riya!" Abhi's voice echoes in the large hollow foyer. Her words, they no longer pertain to the days' disappearance, they hit a nerve. His hand raises in the air to strike, hanging, there is no impact. Though inherently she flinches away, and at the abrupt movement something plops to the floor.

Abhi's raised hand curls up and runs through his hair, exhaling. Shit, I didn't mean to do that. While Riya bent down to retrieve whatever it was that fell. Though to hide her tears too, stupid tears, a sign of weakness. But a smirk settles on her lips- his overly dramatic reaction only proved her point.

"Your wrist!" Abhi exclaimed, catching sight of the bandaged limb, it had been previously concealed by her coat draped over her arm. But Riya doesn't seem to hear him, a smile playing on her lips as stood, grabbing a melted ice pack from the floor. Why she still has it is beyond her understanding.

Riya was all for throwing it out when she first got it, but Prachi didn't allow her. The doctor's verdict after her unwanted checkup- nothing broken, merely some bruising and swelling. The solution- a compression bandage and an ice pack. The bandage Riya was fine with, but the ice, not so much, stinging and cold. Riya detested it, about to chuck it away, but not that Prachi would ever let her.

Riya had sulked at Prachi the entire time she held the ice pack on her wrist. As though Riya was some sort of child, incapable of understanding such a simple task. It was only when Riya had promised Prachi that she would follow the doctor's order, did Prachi let go of her.

She was so bossy, perhaps this bossy with Shazia too... But there could be a real warmth in ice, Riya hadn't known till today.

"How were you injured, answer me!" Abhi's concerned yell snaps Riya back to reality. Her smile fades away. His care and concern come too late, the same hand that cups her cheek was raised to strike her not a minute ago, the same hand that cradles her wrist was pointing fingers at her in disappointment. His care and concern arrive after bitter words have already been spat, and therefore hold no real value in her eyes.

Abhi reacts before he observes, always had. This impulsivity of his will be his greatest downfall, he doesn't know it yet. The answer to his question, she doesn't have it, doesn't know how to voice it. Reminded of how she attained said injury, her breath quickened.

Guilt ceased her heart, her mind played the images over and over Prachi's mom... that look in her eyes as she laid on the pavement was almost of recognition. The hand that grasped hers desperately, clinging. The crimson blood that stained her hands appeared again. It won't go away, it won't, no matter how much she scrubs it away.

"I- didn't- it was a- acci-dent. It was she- she-" Riya struggled to articulate, all in a trembling whisper.

"Accident? Which accident?! Princess, what are you talking about?" Abhishek frantically gives her a once over, checking for other injuries.

"Sh- she- die- no no no- she can't- she- can't." Riya stumbled back, sweat and tears emerging on her face. Why are my hands dripping with blood? It hurts.

"Riya?!" Abhi shouted after her, but she was already gone on unsteady feet, into her car. His only answer, a screeching engine. Two cars departed the driveway, chasing after her, perplexed, distressed, unaware of their destination.

In this pursuit, he will come to find only darkness, even as the sun rises tinting the sky in orange, pink hue, in light.

---Fading In The Sun---

Kiara, a name that means light- an illuminating factor capable of conquering every speck of darkness ubiquitously present in every nook and cranny of this cave-like structure. It's comforting in this tunnel, as Pragya Arora identified it. She finds herself running as fast as her legs could carry her. There was no distinction between her shadow and the surroundings because they are so intricately woven that Pragya thinks she was simply in a dreamless sleep.

It couldn't be possible because she could feel the sweat beads dripping down her wrinkling forehead, tears rained unhinged across her sunken cheeks and her lungs burned with the need to capture air.

She doesn't remember falling asleep either. She was at home, in her bedroom with her newborn twin babies in a cradle beside her bed. She was singing them a lullaby hoping for it to calm their high pitched cries. It seemed like even those tiny beings knew of someone close to them being in danger.

It remained a mystery to her how she reached this place. She doesn't know where this is or why she is here. All she is cognisant of is the need to find this playful light source whose laughter bounced off the walls of this vacant shell - my daughter, Kiara.

Kiara Abhishek Prem Mehra had been kidnapped by Nikhil, taken far away from her family. She wouldn't be coming back- but that was a fact the girl's parents would come to know too late.

She searched every direction she assumed existence based on how she padded along the walls as she sprinted. Kiara's, her daughter's life was on the line, her chances of survival decreased every second that she didn't have to spare.

"Mumma!" a scream tears through the echoing indication of happiness. Pragya doesn't waste any time dashing towards where she heard it. She had to shield her eyes from the blinding light in front of it. "Mumma!" she heard it again. Her motherly instincts kicked in and she walked past it keeping her palm in a visor like position.

"I am on my way, Kiara."

Once the pricking light couldn't be seen behind closed eyelids, Pragya opened them to the world around. The other side of the light was a completely different landscape. Row after rows of mountains with a ditch that elongated too far for her human eye to make out. She inspected the place around. There was no sign of the tunnel she exited from, not even a cave-like structure. Every surface was illuminated and Pragya breathed a sigh of relief- too soon as some would say.

"Mumma!"

Pragya spins on her heel. There she stood, petrified and sobbing in a way that left her shaken to her core. There was a knife to her throat by the deranged man who was out to seek revenge on her husband - the obsession of devoting himself to a cynical cause swam in his grey orbs. The price to pay for this lunacy was her daughter's life.

Pragya opened her mouth to speak but the words wouldn't come out. She tried to move forward but found herself stuck. Rounding her gaze onto Kiara once more, she realised that the little girl was staring past her. She slowly turned in the direction and her breath hitched.

"This is a memory."

That meant she couldn't stop what was about to happen from happening. This was the cause of the agony the next twenty years would bring- not that she knew. Loving was easy but it comes with the danger of irrationality and recklessness. That was possibly why despite the obvious notion, Pragya tried to save her daughter, if only to right the wrongs of the past that were the misery raising weapon. She exhausted all her options but couldn't. She was ill-fated to witness her daughter die in front of her, again. All because her husband couldn't control his impulsive nature.

She watched it play out just like it did the first time. Abhishek points a gun at Nikhil, them arguing and finally, Kiara plunging to her death bed. Pragya screamed - earsplitting and grief inducing - falling face-first onto the ground. She laid there, letting the hysterical cries wreck her petite frame.

She was back in the cold biting tunnel, darkness was an emperor of this incarceration. Love didn't require evidence but the pain of loss came as a testament to it.

She failed to abdicate Kiara's life. twice. she was dead. her body washed down the surface, vanishing from sight and lurking in-depth of an enclave yet to be discovered.

Her soul was paper-thin, all the energy, willpower and resolve sank deep into the ocean with her firstborn. The scene is engraved into her brain with an unsterilized tattoo gun. It scraped at the protective layer of her nerve. The ink turned her skin to ash and she watched it disintegrate with an eerie calm smile. The smell lingered in the air mixed with the nauseating fragrance of the child she lost- the child whose beautiful face she won't see again, the child whose melodious voice would only play like a ringtone of a call one didn't want to answer, the child who gave her strength to love again.

The little space she was capitulating her power to grow smaller, confining her in its claws of despair. A claustrophobic Pragya didn't have it in her to save herself for her reason to live was gone. At least this way, they could meet again in heaven, in the presence of the almighty which promised a safe afterlife. With that last thought, she surrendered herself to the arms of the divine, hoping to be one with her child when she awoke.

"Kiara!"

The frantic scream and wildly beeping electrocardiograph drew the attention of the nurse in the ward. She rushed to Pragya's side, stethoscope already in hand. "Miss Arora, relax. You are in the hospital."

Pragya paid no heed to her instructions and instead continued calling out for her deceased daughter. She flung arms, hands and legs like a child lacking in gross motor development. She was supposed to wake up with Kiara but she was nowhere to be seen in this cream painted room.

No. She is fine. Kiara is alive.

She rejected the prospect of her being dead. There was no way that could happen. That young child had her whole life ahead of her. She still had to play with her baby sisters, had to protect them from the bullies in school, support them in rebelling during teenagehood while being a guide, had to go to college and get a drivers lesson.

She had to live with or without her parents because Kiara Mehra was a child who had not experienced the phenomenon called life.

"I want to see my daughter." Pragya declared, looking at the nurse. Despite her fragile state, the nurse was mildly spooked.

The nurse tried to push her back down onto the bed but the anxious mother wouldn't budge. "Don't worry. I'll call Prachi Arora. Just lie back and breathe."

"Prachi?" she asked, confused. "I want to see my daughter." she insisted.

"Yes, and I am calling your daughter. Prachi." the nurse reiterated.

Pragya's eyebrows twitched in irritation. "I want to see Kiara. Who is Prachi?"

A look of understanding dawned upon the nurse. She nodded her head to reassure her restless patient. "I'll call your daughter...Kiara."

Pragya was too busy thinking about what she assumed was a dream to realise that the nurse was about to call her seven-year-old daughter with a phone as far as she knew Kiara didn't have. 

A/N: This story is now written in collaboration with shadycrazyme. Don't forget to R&R!