Hey everybody, I'm new here, really new.
I joined the fandom last Tuesday, and the forum on Wednesday.
This show is so good I cannot even begin to tell you how much I'm obsessed with it oh my gawd.
My name is Sardeep, but nearly everybody has their own name for me, so you can call me what ever you like :D
Anyway, I wrote this one shot and I hope you like it :)
If you don't then that's okay as well, just tell me what went wrong
Its static in her ears, grasping on the corners and pouring into her head. It crackles and slithers and grows, it smothers the thrum of her heartbeat, the wild rush of her blood, rips the thin wiry thread of screaming in her head that goes on and on and on. It overwhelms her senses, the sharp pinpricks of static snarling in the corners of her eyes as her vision tunnels, plummets. It circles around Rudra's hand clamping on her shoulder tugging her back, pushing her away. It shatters over her vocal cords, thrumming with sound, and she realizes the noise isn't just in her head.
Paro is screaming.
The static keeps her safe. The static makes the blood fuzzy. It makes the ragged gashes look like papier-mch. It makes the sick scent turn into a rusty tang in her mouth, against her nose, dripping over her lips. It makes things look imaginative.
Imagination is more important than knowledge.
She imagines, then, that her Mami sa sits up. Imagines that she turns to Paro, smiling that sweet, curved grin of hers, and reaches out. She imagines tucking into her Mami sa's embrace, imagines inhaling the earthly curl of her hair, imagines the kiss on her forehead, imagines, imagines, imagines, don't stop, don't stop, please don't stop, don't let it stop. She imagines and knowledge slaps her with reality.
Blunt nails dig into her skin and it's a warning. She doesn't care, fights against Rudra's hold, the static sneering up around her lips into a cry of fury. She pushes into Rudra's chest, daring him, calling his bluff. Rudra makes a noise against the nape of her neck. "Shant."
Shant. She can't be shant. She wants to sink her teeth into someone's bones, wants to spill kerosene over the world and light the match; she wants the tear the ground apart, fill her fingers with blood and fire and fury. She screams and its static.
There are people now, people moving over her and through her. She's static, catching in the air, spilling out into the spaces and filling them with agony. She's static, clawing at Rudra's hand on her, drawing blood, biting down hard on the rust in her mouth. She's static, fighting forwards, sobs pulsing from her throat in the aftermath of her howl.
There's a gasp of air and its echoed throughout the washed walls, cutting through the pervading noise. Paro screams, and sound pushes back the static. People talking, machines beeping, the silence so missing that it feels like its own haunting presence. Paro screams and her name answers her, breathed out on a gravelly whisper. Rudra doesn't let her go. People crowd; press forward, their clothing like ghosts. The reapers have come and Paro can only scream.
They part, momentarily, allowing her the glimpse of hope. A mask. An oxygen mask over her Mami sa's mouth. Her chest. Her chest is moving. Paro screams for her and her Mami sa's eyes open. The static bites into the soft underbelly of her thoughts as she drops, her legs winding up with white noise. Rudra catches her, drags her close enough that Paro can feel the answering static in Rudra's heartbeat.
The people return, blocking her view, and she reaches. Imagines that they all part for her, imagines they allow her a steady glimpse of her Mami sa. Imagines that the man tearing into her Mami sa with a knife in hand was a hallucination, imagines the anguish and anger in her eyes the moment Paro faced her after so long was just a nightmare, imagines the last word(s) her Mami sa spoke to her so long ago were I love you, and not maaf karde. She imagines and wills and fights and its static.
Rudra pulls her away and she doesn't have the strength to fight him. They end up in a corner, tucked up against a sharp bend. She keeps her hands out, watching her fingers, watching them reach. Imagines them all the while.
Imagination is more important than knowledge.
She banishes the static. She needs to be dynamic.
Tha Mami sa aint dead. Just putting that out there.
Please tell me if you liked it or not, its my first post thing in this forum, and I would loved to know how it went for other people :)
*****Yo, because no one can understand this (I knew it ) ill paint a clearer picture in your heads.
Paro's Mami sa is attacked with a knife, just seconds after Paro meets for the first time after the whole baraat fiasco thing.
This fic is set in the hospital, where rudra is trying to console her, but paro cant do anything. Her brain is static and she is screaming because you know, her only family is dying of blood loss infront of her. She's trying to use her imagination to cover up the truth.
Like, instead of the gashes, she sees shredded newspaper. She imagines that the man attacking her mami sa was a hallucination. Stuff like that.
Hope its clearer to y'all now loves <3
xx*****Edited by suds. - 2014-03-24T01:29:58Z
Topic started by saruu.
Last replied by YellowBoots