|the naive rebel|
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ix| a game of chess
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word count: 585

A VERY short update, but necessary for the plot. I enjoyed writing it! I hope you enjoy reading as well!

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Third Person
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The room is enchantingly darkened, she enters the room-her messy hair tied in a bun as she makes her way towards the locked cupboard. Her fingers lazily tracing a path on the dust-coated door.

A blob of tear betrays the poker-faced emotion adorning her face. A sardonic smile breaks through her pink glossy lips. The dangling key tightens in her fist, her perfidious organ-still beating under her rib cage smirks at her misery.

She loathes them, anyone, who believes in the word 'trust'.

She opens her fist, letting the keys fall on the ground jingling.

'I can't.' She announces to the darkness, making her words clearer to no one but herself.

The lightness suddenly sweeps away the darkness, a male figure makes his way towards the lady. His thumb wiping the tear strained path on her wrinkled cheek.

"Don't cry, Ma." He calms her, taking her hand in his larger ones; pulling her out of the lightened room which then again paints in darkness as they leave.

Little do they know, no light can ever erase the darkness in her life. The darkness that took away her happiness long back, pushing her to the depths of regret-cocooning her in the warmth of hatred, turning her expressionless-cold for the rest of her life.

The only ray of light in her life is him. The only source of hope.

But now he isn't alone. She is here, too.

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His rigid, rugged and rough face now breaks into a smile, as he gazes at the illuminating moon stealing the brightness from the sun. Contrary to them, he stands there relaxed and calm.

The scenes on either side of the frames, mock at each other. One place where the lady has lost hopes, here he has seen a new flame of hope.

Raking through his hair, he leans on the window sill, slowly sipping his dark tea. His face holds a bare look while his mind is everything but empty.

Working, running, solving, complicating, simplifying all theories that emerges in and derides his brain.

He will finally be free, or so he thinks.

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Inaayat sitting on her velvety sofa, scrolling through pages of the thick file in her hand. Rubbing her sore eyes, she articulates out a dark lament. Her eyes are red, not from weeping but from the contact lenses she has to wear day and night.

Studying about every student of the college, she lets out a boisterous yawn this time. Tired after the whole day's hard work.

She readies for her move while the others had already played theirs.

Life plays the game of mockery, everyone with their phases of laughing and being laughed at. The game of life like chess has now actually begun.

Everyone is at stake- from soldiers to the king. No one would be spared until someone says;

Checkmate.

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So short, yet I hope you got a picture of what's in store.

There's a whole lot of action/comedy and mystery going to be unfolded soon.

I hope I do justice to the plot being cooked in my brain!

Hehe!

Also, in case you are interested- I have released the prologue of an Indian werewolf story- if you are interested to do check it out!

Till the next,
keep dodging the bullets
ऊ.