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The sound of crying & wailing of several women could be heard from the inside.

As Shiva steeled himself to go in, he saw the air was heavy with grief as the family and whole neighborhood gathered to pay their last respects. The body of a young girl lay on a simple pyre, surrounded by flowers and incense.

He saw his mother weeping inconsolably, her sobs echoing throughout the village. Her heart was shattered, her soul torn apart. She could not believe that her beloved daughter was gone, taken from her in the prime of her life. She was surrounded by other family members who were trying to console her, but nothing seems to be able to ease her pain.

His father was sitting on the floor, his head buried in his hands, his red eyes crying out for his daughter. His little brother was weeping uncontrollably, his face twisted in anguish. He saw his big brother who was holding his own sadness, trying his best to console himself and keep himself together for his family, but still from time to time his eyes would get moist and he would clean them.

Everyone who came there was crying, everyone was grieving, everyone except for him.

Shiva stood in the corner, watching as his family wept and wailed for his little sister who had passed away. He felt numb, as if a part of him had died along with her.

He wanted to cry, to join in the chorus of sorrow that filled the air, but the tears wouldn't come. He felt as if he had been drained of all emotion, as if his heart had turned to stone.

He felt like an outsider, a heartless monster who couldn't even shed a tear for his own sister. He could hear the whispers and the mutters of his relatives, calling him heartless and cold. They didn't understand the pain that he was going through, the guilt that was eating him up inside.

As the rituals continued, he was asked to perform certain tasks, such as placing flowers on his sister's body and lighting incense sticks. He did everything so mechanically, as if in a trance, his mind consumed by his sorrow.

As the final rites were performed, Shiva watched as the flames consumed Ria's body, reducing it to ashes. He felt a pang of regret, wishing that he had spent more time with her, that he had told her how much he loved her. Hoping that if he had been there it wouldn't have happened.

The family members took turns to offer their condolences, embracing his father, mother, and brother, and expressing their sympathy for their loss. And yet he could barely bring himself to respond, his grief too overwhelming for him to bear.

After everything Shiva realised that his sister was truly gone, that he will never be able to see her smile again, to hear her voice, to hold her hand.

His family still continued to weep and wail, their voices blending together into a chorus of cries. Shiva looked around the room, at the faces of his family members, all of them united in their grief. Despite his pain, he felt a sense of solidarity, knowing that he is not alone in his suffering.

_

But that was another joke of fate - as after this soon started a game of blame.

There's this line that says - "ğ�˜†ğ�˜�ğ�—¶ğ�—¼ğ�—»ğ�˜�ğ�—¿ğ�—°ğ�—¼ğ�—ºğ�—²ğ�—»,®ğ�—»ğ�—´ğ�—²ğ�—¿."

Shiva had seen the pain of his family, now it was time to face their anger.

_

Shiva found himself standing alone in the middle of his family's house, his head bowed in shame and grief. He could feel the weight of everyone's accusations bearing down on him, crushing him with guilt and anger.

Shiva stood frozen as his father's hand connected with his cheek, the sting reverberating throughout his entire body. His mother's wails pierced the air, filling the room with an overwhelming sense of grief and pain. His brother, though visibly upset, stood silently by their mother's side, trying to console her as best he could.

As Shiva looked around at his family, the weight of his guilt and sorrow bore down on him even more heavily. He had never felt so alone, so helpless, and so responsible for the tragedy that had befallen them all.

_

"Shame on you!" his mother spat at him. "How could you be so heartless? You should have been looking out for your sister, not running around with your friends."

Shiva's anger flared at his mother's words. He loved Ria more than anyone else in the world, and the thought of her death made his heart ache with sorrow. He knew that he was partly responsible for what had happened, but he also knew that he had never intended for anything bad to happen to her.

"I loved her more than anything," he said, his voice choking with tears. "I would never have let anything happen to her if I had known."

"Love isn't enough," his father said bitterly. "You should have been responsible, you should have been watching out for her. And now she's gone because of your carelessness."

Shiva's fists clenched at his sides. He wanted to lash out at his parents, to scream and shout and tell them that they were wrong. But he knew that they were hurting just as much as he was, and that they were looking for someone to blame.

Shiva turned to leave the house, unable to bear the accusations and the pain any longer. But as he stepped outside, he was greeted by the sight of his neighbors, all of them looking at him with anger and contempt.

"Murderer!" one of them shouted and came forward to slap him. "How could you let this happen?"

Shiva's heart sank. He knew that he would never be able to escape the guilt and the shame that he felt. Ria was gone, and he would always feel responsible for her death.

As the days turned into weeks, Shiva retreated into himself, consumed by his grief and his guilt. He knew that he would never be able to make things right, that his sister's death had shattered his family and his everything.

And so he stood alone, his heart heavy with sorrow and his mind consumed by regret. He knew that he had made a terrible mistake, and that he would have to live with the consequences for the rest of his life.

Shiva walked down the street, feeling like a stranger in his own neighborhood. People he had known for years were looking at him with cold eyes, muttering under their breath as he passed by. He could feel their hatred and disgust, their judgmental gazes weighing down on him like a ton of bricks. He wanted to scream at them, to tell them that he was not responsible for Ria's death, that it was an accident, that he would give anything to bring her back.

But he couldn't find the words. He felt numb, hollowed out by grief and guilt. His parents had blamed him, his brother had blamed him, and now it seemed like the whole world was blaming him. He had been thrown out of his own house, left to wander the streets with nothing but his thoughts and his pain.

_

But this was only the start of the pain and hell that was further awaiting him.

that his life would come crumbling down in pieces, just like a house of cards

##

A/N - one more chapter for the nightmare.

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