Chapter 10 - Ghosts Of The Past

•The Search for Self: A Journey Beyond Existence

It was a dimly lit room. A lone figure sat there, bathed in the faint glow of a side lamp. The rest of the room remained shrouded in shadows, its details blurred in the half-light.

The figure was hunched over a book, dragging words across the page, lost in thought.

 "Who do I choose to become?" 

This question holds more power than we realize. We are not just the sum of our past mistakes, our circumstances, or the labels others place upon us. We are the choices we make every single day. 

Do we choose to remain confined by our fears, regrets, and insecurities? Or do we rise above them, shaping ourselves into something greater? 

Becoming is a journey—a constant transformation. It's in the battles we fight within ourselves, the lessons we learn, and the dreams we refuse to let go of. It's in the moments when we decide to stand up, to move forward, to rewrite our story. 

So, who do I choose to become? 

Someone stronger. Someone wiser. Someone who refuses to let the past define the future. 

And that choice… is mine alone.

Every day, we wake up with choices. Some are small, like deciding what to eat or wear. Others are life-changing—how we react to failure, whether we chase our dreams or let them fade, whether we let pain break us or build us.

Think about two people who face the same failure. One gives up, believing they aren't good enough. The other sees it as a lesson, tries again, and eventually succeeds. The difference? Choice.

We often believe our circumstances, past mistakes, or other people's opinions define us. But the truth is, we define ourselves. A person born into hardship can choose to remain a victim or work tirelessly to create a better life. Someone betrayed can choose to stay bitter or learn to heal. A student who fails a test can choose to feel worthless or work harder next time.

Life doesn't shape us—our choices do.

If we let anger, fear, and self-doubt control us, we become weak and lost. But if we choose to learn, grow, and improve, we shape a future we're proud of.

Who do I choose to become? Someone stronger than my fears. Someone who doesn't let failure define them. Someone who keeps moving forward, no matter what.

Because at the end of the day, we are not what happens to us—we are what we choose to become.

•Three Years Ago – The Betrayal

University. A place where laughter echoed through the halls, where futures were being shaped. But for Abrish and Zayan, it had been something else.

It had been the beginning of the end.

"You trust me, right?" Zayan had asked, leaning against the railing of the rooftop.

Abrish had smiled, oblivious to the s

torm waiting ahead. "More than anyone."

"Then don't hate me for what's coming." His voice had been quiet, almost pained.

She had frowned. "What do you mean?"

But before he could answer, the world around her had shattered.

Laughter. Mocking voices. A cruel bet revealed.

Zayan's name tangled in whispers of deception.

Her heart had cracked that day.

And when she had looked at him, searching for anything—an explanation, regret, denial—

She had found nothing.

Just silence.

A silence that had cut deeper than any lie ever could.

•Present Day – The Storm Returns

Haider tightened his grip on the steering wheel as he drove through the empty streets.

The past was no longer knocking.

It had broken down the door.

And for the first time, he wasn't sure if he could survive it.

Three Years Ago – A House That Was Never Home

The rain pounded against the windows, drowning the silence that filled the dimly lit room. Abrish Pasha sat on the cold floor, her back pressed against the wall, her arms wrapped around her knees.

She had learned, over the years, how to make herself small. How to disappear in a house that never felt like home.

Her father's voice thundered from the other room.

"A girl should know her limits! If she keeps behaving like this, who will marry her?"

Her mother's reply was softer, but just as cutting.

"She needs to learn obedience before she ruins our name."

Abrish squeezed her eyes shut. Ruins our name?

What about the nights she had spent locked away?

What about the words that cut deeper than any wound?

What about the silence that had never protected her?

She had tried, for years, to be the perfect daughter. The obedient one. The one who never raised her voice. But perfection was never enough in a house that thrived on control.

Her father's hand had never struck her—no, he didn't need to.

His words had done far worse.

They had built walls inside her.

Walls that no one—not even Zayan—had ever been able to break through.

• The Birth of a Monster

The moonlight crept through the narrow window, casting long shadows across the expensive carpet of the grand house. A fourteen-year-old Zayan sat at the corner of his father's office, his fingers clutching his bruised arm, his mind numb.

His father, Sikandar Ali Khan, stood by the desk, staring at him with the same disappointment that never left his eyes.

"You're weak." The words struck harder than the slap he had received earlier.

Zayan kept his gaze on the floor, not daring to meet his father's glare.

"A man who can't control his emotions is a man who will always be controlled by others." His father's voice was cold, measured. "You want power? Strength? Then stop feeling. Stop caring. Crush the ones who try to hurt you before they even get the chance."

His uncle, standing beside his father, nodded approvingly. "Women, Zayan, are distractions. Weaknesses. If you must be around them, use them. But never let them use you."

Zayan's fists clenched.

"Do you understand?" His father's voice demanded.

A pause.

Then, finally, he nodded.

That night, something inside Zayan died.

And in its place, something darker was born.

A boy who once felt too much learned to feel nothing at all.

A boy who once craved love learned to fear it.

That night, Zayan Khan became the man his father wanted him to be.

And three years later, that man had destroyed Abrish Pasha.

 •University – The Illusion of Freedom

When she had first stepped onto the university campus, she had felt something she had never known before.

Freedom.

It was in the way people laughed without fear, the way they spoke their minds, the way they existed without permission.

And then, there was him.

Zayan Khan.

Charming. Confident. Dangerous in ways she hadn't yet understood.

She had been drawn to him—maybe because he had looked at her like she wasn't invisible. Like she wasn't just another girl following the rules of a world she hadn't chosen.

Maybe that was her mistake.

Because Zayan wasn't a hero.

And she… she had been too broken to see the warning signs.

She had trusted him.

And he had shattered her.

Just like the family she had spent her life trying to escape.

•Unfinished Cafè Meeting 

Abrish's fingers trembled as she stared at Haider from across the table.

The years had changed him.

But she wondered…

Had they changed her too?

Or was she still the same girl, sitting in the dark, waiting for a home she would never find?

She exhaled slowly, her grip tightening around the edge of her coffee cup. "Do you ever wonder, Haider?"

He looked up, his eyes dark, unreadable. "Wonder what?"

"If we had met differently… if we had been different people… would it have ended the same way?"

For a moment, silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken words.

Then Haider sighed, rubbing his temples. "There's no point thinking about what-ifs, Abrish. The past doesn't change."

Her heart clenched at his words.

"The past doesn't change."

No, it didn't.

But it lingered.

It haunted.

It sat between them like a ghost, whispering things they could never erase.

She let out a shaky breath. "I just want to know, Haider… Was it all a lie?"

His jaw clenched. "You think I lied about everything?"

"I don't know," she whispered. "That's the worst part. I don't know what was real and what wasn't."

Haider's gaze softened, but there was something else there too—something almost like regret.

"Abrish," he said, his voice quieter now, "not everything was a lie."

She held his gaze, searching for the truth in his words.

For years, she had buried the pain, forced herself to forget, to move on.

But sitting here, in front of him, she realized—

She had never really healed.

And maybe…

Neither had he.

To Be Continued...