Blood beneath the Carpet

🩸 CHAPTER 4 – Blood Beneath the Carpet

[Night – Winter – Rain outside the Khan house]

The sky was crying first.

Needles of rain struck the tin roof, each drop echoing through the narrow, tired walls. Aarya held her shawl close and hurried down the alley, her shoes half-soaked, her hands trembling around a paper bag.

Inside the bag lay a small bottle of syrup — fever medicine she’d bought for Faris, her baby brother. She’d spent all her lunch money on it.

She whispered to herself as she walked,

“Don’t drop it… please don’t drop it.”

Her breath came out in fog. The streetlamps flickered like dying candles.

By the time she reached the rusted gate of her house, the night had swallowed even the color of the walls.

[INT. Khan House – Living Room]

Aarya slipped quietly through the door. The moment it creaked, her heart stuttered.

Faraz Khan sat in his armchair, a glass of whiskey dangling from his fingers.

The clock struck eight.

He looked up slowly, his eyes bloodshot.

Faraz: (low, dangerous)

“Where were you?”

Aarya froze. Her wet shawl dripped on the floor.

Aarya: (softly)

“F-Faris was sick. I went to get his—”

Before she could finish, the glass slammed against the wall beside her. The sound shattered the silence into dust.

Faraz:

“You think I’m blind? Spending money without asking me?”

He stood, swaying slightly, the stench of liquor wrapping around him like smoke.

Aarya:

“It was my lunch money… I didn’t take anything else—”

Faraz:

“Answering back now?”

His voice turned into thunder.

He grabbed her wrist, hard enough to leave a mark.

Aarya: (pleading)

“Please, Abba… he had a fever… 104…”

Her words trembled like candlelight before wind.

Sadia appeared at the door, her eyes sharp, her lips twisting in disdain.

Sadia:

“Don’t listen to her, Faraz. You spoil her. Look at her, sneaking out like some street girl.”

Aarya looked at her stepmother — the woman who wore perfume even while she poisoned everything she touched.

Aarya:

“I didn’t sneak—”

The slap came first, fast and merciless. Her head snapped to the side. She tasted iron.

Faraz:

“No food tonight. You’ll learn.”

He shoved her backward; the paper bag flew from her hands.

The bottle broke. The syrup spilled, red and thick, across the carpet. For a second, Aarya just stared at it — the only medicine her brother had, bleeding into the floor like wasted hope.

She dropped to her knees instantly.

Aarya:

“No! No, no, no…”

Her shaking fingers tried to save it, scooping droplets that wouldn’t stay.

Faraz:

“Look what you’ve done. You can’t even hold a bottle right.”

He kicked the broken glass aside and left the room, muttering curses.

Sadia followed, a satisfied smile hidden behind her dupatta.

The door to their room slammed. Silence returned — heavy, suffocating, cruel.

[INT. Faris’s Room – Dim Light]

Aarya pushed open the door softly.

The small boy lay on the bed, his cheeks flushed, sweat beading his forehead. He looked up weakly when she entered.

Faris: (voice hoarse)

“Aapi… you came?”

She smiled — or tried to. Her lip had split from the slap, but she smiled anyway.

Aarya:

“I came. See? Told you I’d be back soon.”

She sat beside him and wiped his face with a wet cloth.

Faris:

“Did you get the medicine?”

Her eyes flickered toward the hallway — where crimson syrup soaked the carpet like spilled blood.

Aarya: (softly)

“I… dropped it. I’m sorry, baby.”

Faris:

“It’s okay.”

He tried to smile but coughed instead. “Abba shouted again?”

She stayed quiet, wringing the cloth in her hands. Her silence was answer enough.

Faris:

“I hate it when they hurt you.”

Aarya: (whispering)

“No, don’t hate, Faris. Hate makes you like them. You’re gonna be good, promise?”

He nodded weakly.

Aarya:

“Good boy. Close your eyes. I’ll get you water.”

She rose, every muscle aching. Her wrist burned from his grip, her cheek swollen. The mirror on the dresser caught her reflection — a ghost with wet hair, a bruise blooming like a stormcloud.

She turned away before she could cry.

[INT. Kitchen – Moments Later]

The kitchen smelled of damp walls and old smoke. Aarya searched for another bottle — maybe there was some leftover syrup somewhere — but the shelves were bare.

She poured warm water into a cup and whispered to herself:

“It’s okay… it’s okay… he’ll get better.”

Her voice cracked halfway through the lie.

From the hallway, Sadia’s voice sliced through the air.

Sadia:

“And don’t you dare touch the stove! I’m not feeding thieves tonight!”

Aarya flinched but didn’t answer. She took the cup of water and crept back to Faris’s room.

[INT. Faris’s Room – Night Deepens]

Faris was half asleep. His small hand clutched the corner of the blanket. Aarya sat beside him and hummed — a tune she barely remembered, something her real mother used to sing before the world turned cruel.

Aarya (humming)

“Chandni raat mein so ja, meri jaan…”

The words melted into the soft buzz of rain outside. Faris’s breathing slowed.

She brushed his hair back, whispering more to herself than him,

“I’ll protect you, okay? One day we’ll leave this place. You’ll go to school. You’ll eat as much ice-cream as you want. We’ll live near the sea. I promise.”

Her eyes glistened, reflecting the single candle flickering beside the bed.

Faris: (murmuring in sleep)

“Aapi… don’t cry.”

Her hand froze mid-air. He wasn’t fully asleep; he had felt the tears drop onto his hand.

She wiped her face quickly.

“I’m not,” she whispered. “I’m brave, remember?”

He smiled faintly, drifting off.

Aarya stayed there for a long time, listening to his breathing — the only gentle sound left in the house.

[INT. Living Room – Later That Night]

The rain had stopped. The carpet was still stained red. She crouched on the floor with a rag, scrubbing the mark until her hands burned.

Sadia: (from doorway)

“You’ll never get that out. Useless girl.”

Aarya: (quietly)

“I just don’t want him to see it.”

Sadia:

“Who? Your drunk father or that sick brat?”

She laughed. “You really think you can hide ugliness with cleaning?”

Aarya kept scrubbing, saying nothing.

Sadia: (leaning closer, venomous)

“You’ll learn one day, Aarya. This house isn’t yours. You’re just a mouth to feed.”

When she left, Aarya whispered under her breath,

“I know.”

But she kept cleaning anyway — not for them, for herself. For the tiny illusion that maybe, just maybe, she could erase pain if she worked hard enough.

[INT. Aarya’s Room – Midnight]

She sat on the floor beside the window, a small notebook open in her lap.

A cheap pen rested in her bruised fingers. She wrote in tiny, careful letters:

“Today I dropped the medicine. I ruined everything again.

Faris smiled anyway.

I think God hides inside him.”

She paused, hearing a car outside — black, polished, its headlights cutting through the rain-slick street. It stopped near their gate for a moment. Two silhouettes sat inside, unmoving.

One of them lit a cigarette.

Smoke curled through the night air like a whisper.

Man 1: (from inside the car, distant)

“That’s her?”

Man 2:

“Yes. The girl.”

The car pulled away slowly, tires hissing against wet pavement.

Aarya didn’t see it. She was staring at the sky, searching for stars.

But clouds covered them all.

[INT. Faris’s Room – Moments Later]

She slipped back into Faris’s room to check on him again.

He was sleeping peacefully, his small chest rising and falling.