“May your feet serve you well and the rest be sent to hell

Where they always have belonged, cold hearts grew colder songs

Fate will play us out with a song of pure romance

Stomp your feet and clap your hands

Let's kill tonight, kill tonight

Show them all you're not the ordinary type”

The humming mixed with Veer’s shuffling footsteps echoed through the house. With a playful vibe, he hugged Myra from behind, wrapping his arms around her. “You smell like home. Happy Birthday beautiful.”

Myra knew he would come home early.

“We should leave soon. It’s 5 already. I decided to leave early so that we’d reach on time. You know how I hate being late.” 

“I think I am repeating today.”

“What?”

“I lived this day yesterday.”

Myra’s world was swirling. Her face pale as a whiteboard, eyes focused on the photo framed on the wall before her.

“Myra? We’ve talked about this before. You’ve been having these crazy dreams for a while now. We need to see a doctor. This is getting out of hand.”

“WHY DON’T YOU BELIEVE ME?”

“Okay... there's no need to raise voices here. I believe you.”

“How about we discuss this after we get dinn-”

“I died.”

“Myra….”

Myra’s gaze shifted towards Veer. He felt out of focus. She could only recognise Veer because of his voice.

“Baby? How about we sit down first? Let me get you a glass of water.”

Myra felt like she was slipping out of her skin, watching herself from a distance, trapped between reality and something far worse—something she couldn’t name.

It was surreal.

Her cheeks suddenly felt hot. She could feel her eyes welling up. Her trance finally broke as she took to the floor and started wailing. It was a mess. She was a mess.

Veer rushed in, set the glass of water on the bedside table, and took Myra in his arms, gently rocking her back and forth while patting her back slowly.

“It’s too much, I ca.. hic hic can… can’t breathe. I died Veer. I died.”

“It felt too real.” Her cries getting louder, muffled only by her face buried in his chest. She clutched onto Veer more tightly than before, clutching the collar of his shirt in her hands.

Veer’s shirt was soaked in her tears.

“You know I hate to see you cry, Myra. And on your birthday, too?” His tone was soft, but something about it made her chest tighten. “We have a dinner to attend.”

Myra went quiet.

He wiped the tears away pooling around Myra’s eyes. Tucking her hair behind her ears, he looked at her with concern.

“How about you drink some water first?”

Myra drank some water from the glass that Veer brought earlier. The water tasted oddly sweet. Maybe it was all the crying that made the water feel like nectar.

“Now, do you feel any better?”

Myra could only nod faintly.

“Good girl. How about we postpone the dinner by an hour while you take some rest?”

Myra’s gaze was fixated on the floor. She couldn’t raise her head. It was like she would see an expression on Veer’s face that she had seen before. The same expression that she saw the last time they fought. She desperately wanted to avoid his gaze.

Myra softly said yes.

It was 5:30.

“Okay, let me get dressed.” Myra slowly walked towards the study room, her steps becoming faint as she shut the door behind her.

‘I am going to die tonight.’

She kept looking at the dress sprawled on the couch. She felt a pang of irritation looking at that dress.

It was a thoughtful gift but why did it make her feel like a burden? It was almost as if her entire being was being pushed into a box without her say.

She felt guilty for feeling ungrateful. 

But she had something far more pressing on her mind, the looming possibility that she will die tonight. She didn’t want to move because that would mean the time was still passing. Any or every action will lead to her sprawled on the floor, waiting for her final moments to pass as she resigns to her fate.

The clock struck 6. The last 30 minutes stretched endlessly, feeling like an eternity to Myra. A sharp pain sprung in her stomach, twisting tighter with every second. She couldn’t recall what she ate last or if she had eaten anything at all. 

It was a blur.

Veer knocked before he entered the study to check on Myra.

“We’re getting late. Are you rea-”

He pushed the washroom open as he heard a retching sound. Myra was on the floor, hunched over the toilet, her body convulsing with dry heaves.

His expression of concern felt eerily distorted, like someone rehearsing an emotion.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to go to the dinner today. How about we res-”

Thud.

The last thing she remembered was falling on the ground.