Chapter 69: Three Maheswarans and a sleeping gem. [PART 1]
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In a white room with a strong smell of alcohol and rubber, a girl lay asleep.
Even with the gas mask and the IV drip in her arm, her image seemed incredibly peaceful, like that of a person without any worries.
But while she slept, the whole world revolved around her. A different doctor appeared each day with a different diagnosis.
They came with more sophisticated equipment, numerous documents, and heated discussions.
But in the end, no one seemed truly sure of what they were saying.
Words like "It's possible," "probably," or "maybe" accompanied each report. Some did not even try to hide their enthusiasm and curiosity, as if the girl in bed were just a lab rat.
How would Asha react to being placed in this situation? Connie did not have a definite answer to that question.
In fact, these days, she was not sure of anything anymore.
Each day seemed to last an eternity, but she could not even remember where her footsteps landed. Whether on the bus, the subway, or at school, she maintained the same apathetic expression, living on another plane.
She was neither sad nor happy. No thoughts occupied her mind.
She did not care about the bullying at school, the irrational teachers, or the empty atmosphere at home. Nothing mattered.
Only the girl in front of her remained.
Connie took off her backpack and pulled out some flowers wrapped in a pink handkerchief. Then, she picked up the glass jar, changed the water, and replaced the wilted flowers with fresh ones.
Once they were arranged, she sat in the wooden chair and watched Asha with vacant eyes.
Half an hour passed like that.
For three days, Connie spent most of her time in that hospital room with an empty mind.
She did not quite know what to say, but she felt she should not leave Asha alone. Her eyes wandered, checking the rise and fall of her lungs and monitoring her heart rate.
She repeated this behavior more times than she could count. She needed to make sure she was alive.
In that vague state, meaningless thoughts crossed her mind. What should she say to Asha when she wakes up?
Should she apologize for pushing her to her limits? Should she thank her for her earlier comfort and kind words?
It was difficult to think of what to say, and she was not sure how soon she would be able to speak to Asha again.
She thought she knew her well, that she was some kind of magical being in human form.
But in the end, all of that was just an illusion of her mind. A form of escapism from her painful reality.
Her days gradually became more vivid as she formed hypotheses about Asha's trivial behavior. When she had an interesting thought, she would be in the middle. When she had a bad day, Asha would rest in her arms. Or even when she wanted to relax, Connie would watch her drawing.
They had been living together for some months, but for Connie it felt like years.
When had Asha become such an important part of her life?
Seeing Asha in that state was like watching her own mental state deteriorate.
Just like the doctors focused on selling books and studying this case, Connie didn't see Asha in such a human way.
Her mother had a sense of responsibility and lived for her work; her father rarely interacted with Asha and was a source of trauma. Connie only approached her out of curiosity and her own selfish interests.
Asha lived in this environment daily, waking up on the same day, watching the same things, drawing alone, reading, and studying. Living in her own world.
She never initiated conversations unless she had something essential she needed. In the end, Connie seemed to develop jealousy towards this girl, but looking at her actions alone, Asha had never done anything that could cause resentment in anyone.
*
Author's note
The direction I took when I wrote that chapter is very different from my current view, but since I went in that direction I'll go until the end.
Love you and have a good day, an apple today 🍎
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Next chapter in line
69: Three Maheswarans and a sleeping gem. [PART 2]
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2d
46
Her mother's behavior in focusing on Asha now seemed surprisingly coherent upon seeing her in a coma in the hospital.
Asha's introverted and erratic behavior could be explained by her past traumas and insecurities.
The fear of her father could also originate from the same source.
This girl, more broken than anyone, noticed her loneliness and offered a helping hand.
And, without a second thought, Connie sank into the warm arms that reached out to her and vented her emotions in tears.
She remembered sleeping so soundly, as if she were on cloud nine, without worries.
She thought all the problems had been solved, that she could finally begin to be happy, too. But the next day, Asha's body was cold, on the verge of death.
At that moment, Connie couldn't think much, but after three days, she began to replay the previous day of this event in her mind.
Asha's unstable mood, the way she clung to her, the scribbled drawing of a muscular man's figure in her notebook... she showed signs of mental instability all day.
Her movements became rarer. Her embrace was colder. Her touch seemed fragile. Her blinking was slower. Her breathing was more discreet. And her eyes... even they shone differently.
Asha was on the verge of exhaustion, both physically and mentally.
And Connie, the only one who could somehow change the situation, was the only one who pushed her to her limits.
"It's all my fault..." Moist words escaped her dry lips.
The clock ticked mechanically in the drab space as Connie watched Asha through her thick, blurry lenses, which she had not even bothered to clean.
Through those lenses, Asha appeared increasingly blurred and distant. Her previous clarity faded, leaving only a silhouette of what she had been.
"I knew nothing about you."
In her mind, Asha was not so different from how she appeared through those lenses.
Blurred and difficult to recognize.
Through a nurse, she learned many new things she had never imagined.
It was not the first time Asha had suffered from heart problems. She had once been found outside the hospital, nearly dead, and survived only thanks to the doctors' first aid.
She used to be lifeless, and her speech had been even more vague and brief than it was now.
Some information was so shocking that Connie could barely process it.
There were sand and nail marks on her skin, her hymen was ruptured, her senses were impaired, and she drew bizarre shapes in her notebook.
Images of abandoned places, strange machinery, and unrecognizable black figures in various forms.
Connie did not know much about Asha's previous family, but she had always thought she had simply gone through difficult circumstances. In reality, Asha did not even have a citizenship record.
No one knew her parents, her whereabouts, or even her exact age. She was a great enigma who seemed to have appeared out of thin air, broken and traumatized.
Although Connie was a child, she was not so innocent that she did not understand how the world worked. She knew how babies were born, what the lack of a hymen and the condition of her body implied, and what the strangeness of her condition could mean.
In fact, perhaps Connie knew more than she wanted to know.
"What right do I have to be your friend?"
Friends cared for each other; they were loyal, spent time together, and talked about things even their families didn't know. It's a relationship of mutual trust.
Consequently, both parties benefit.
However, Connie's one-sided relationship with Asha puts her in a position where only one party benefits.
How bad was Asha feeling on the Ferris wheel, but refused to share it with her? Instead of complaining about the pain, she was comforting her.
When was the last time she asked how Asha truly felt? When was the last time she asked about her outside of the observations she made from a distance?
Perhaps Asha, more than anyone, needed a friend. Even without using direct words, she was crying out for help. But Connie only thought of herself until the end.
While she slept peacefully, Asha's breath was cut short every second she lay beside her.
That wasn't a friend, but a parasite.
Her blurry vision became even more blurred, and a dampness permeated the edges of her eyes.
"I'm a terrible friend..." Tears streamed from her eyes and from her lenses down to her hands, which were tightly clasped together.
"Someone like me doesn't deserve to be happy."
Her throat felt constricted by her own words, and it was difficult to breathe.
*
Author's note
Wow, we're out of stock. Today I'll do my best to write a little more. I'm thinking of releasing chapters on fixed days. For example, Sunday and Wednesday.
I feel much better now. My routine still needs improvement but it's very good at the moment. I intend to write private stories for fun and write Broken Peridot in the meantime.
I hope it was a good chapter and here is a cookie 🍪
DISCORD:
Owner:Frowfy
Patron:Frowfy
Webnovel:Frowfy
Overall: Frowfy