Contestant Name: Iqra Umair
The night was cold and she didn’t have any warm clothes on to protect her from the chilling winds that kept bustling around making the leaves churn in an eerie manner. But this was the least of her worries at the moment.
What scared here were the voices of those hungry men who had been hunting for her the whole night now.
It was getting dark now. She slowly edged her way to the ground and tried settling down a little. The bruises on her body had begun to hurt too.
Tired from the fight she had been putting up till now, she closed her eyes and rested her head against the big rock. The memories of the night before came back screaming in her head once again.
“I have lost the bet mother.” ……“Why are these men barging in our home like this?” ….“It was either my life or hers.”…. “I won’t let her go with these vultures. She is only thirteen. Have some mercy! You are her only brother.” ….“I can’t do anything now.” ………………….“Run!”
And she did: with over ten drunk men chasing after her as she stumbled over the rocky roads, the broken twigs: barefoot and bewildered.
Not knowing what hurt more: the betrayal or the wounds, she lay there crying, trembling and broken, waiting for the treacherous voices to fade down in her head.
And they did .
The trace dogs found her a few hours later on the ground: Motionless, defeated and dead.
Total words: 249
This is a short story entry by PLB member Iqra Umair.
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