It was amidst of winter and today rain has taken its course in the beautiful city of Islamabad. There near the hills of Margala resides a small, but a very elegant looking house consumed by darkness in this stormy weather. Water was cascading down its windows. Occasional claps of thunder lightened the dark room partially where a figure could be seen sitting in the corner of the room.
Head between knees, she had been sitting like that for the past hour crying her eyes out. Soft whimpers echoed in the room, eyes swollen from crying.
Soon these cries started to subside as sleep consumed her. It wasn’t new for Shanzay Ibad to sleep like this as she had been doing it for the past five years ever since her father left her in this cruel world.
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And In DHA of Islamabad resides a house consumed by darkness where only one room was lighted. Fingers constantly clicked at the keypad of laptop, he looked really lost in his work. A small smile plastered on his face like always as he completed his work. He put aside the laptop and rushed towards the balcony and opened its door. He leaped out, soaking in the rain feeling more than happy. He was Azlaan Murtaza, full of life and rain was his favourite weather…!