Just when I thought surviving had already become unbearable, reality struck, and struck hard. And with it, the last bit of hope I clung onto, shattered into pieces just hours ago.
If tears had colors for every emotion, then pillows were stained with the secrets we hide from the world. A few hours ago, this line felt baseless… empty. But now, it made perfect sense.
When clouds get too heavy, they pour. Not because they want to, but because they have to. Just like that, when the heart grows too heavy, it sheds its pain in the form of tears.
I never liked to cry... I was a person to tell everyone to be happy, but now I was suffering... But whose fault was it to begin with?
Dhiren's or mine? Dhiren for not knowing my feelings even though I hadn't confessed to him? His fault to make me fall for him? His fault that he made a girlfriend? His fault because he was unable to read my eyes...my body language...he forgot to read my face...how it would lit up when he would take the initiative to speak first to me? No...it was not his fault.
It was mine to begin with, mine... because I had a false hope for him and me to be in a relationship. It was my fault for getting too attached to him. My fault… because I let my feelings grew for him even though I knew he was never mine to begin with. I was expecting too...too much from him.
The way his expression softens while talking to me...his smile that actually reached his eyes...all while talking to me? I took it in the wrong direction. I somehow thought that...it was the slightest bit possible that he had a crush on me...but then again, false hopes... I was the problem from the very start, so there was no point in blaming him.
He will never know that someone...who craves his love...his presence...is shattered...shattered in such a way that she will not be able to contain herself....he will never know that someone who loved him dearly is falling apart. But why would he be concerned? Why would he be concerned for someone?
New day and old me...smiles and energy faded in me... I cried myself to sleep and didn't wish to see my face in the mirror. Puffy and red eyes, tangled lashes, and no energy. I already was on edge; motivating myself, I got ready for the university.
My phone buzzed on the bed... Mom...
"Hello!"
"Hello?"
"Mom...what are you doing?" I tried to keep my voice as energetic as I could.
"Nothing...why didn't you called me last night?"
"I--I" think of an excuse, Anaira...fast... "Oh…I was tired yesterday...so I slept."
"Oh...ok… I thought you were asleep...that is why I also didn't called you..."
Only if I could tell you what had happened, why didn't I call you yesterday? If you would have been there...maybe...just maybe I wouldn't have cried that much...maybe it wouldn't have hurt that much.
"You know there's been this news on the internet and news channel..."
"Hm...what news?"
"So there's been this guy who kidnaps the girl...and tortures them to death...this becomes news since one girl attempted suicide once she ran out of his cage. According to rumors and news channels...he is a monster behind a human face. And they say, when she was found, her body was covered in carvings… words etched into her skin like he was writing his story with her pain.
Rumors say he doesn't just torture… He makes them believe they deserve it. By the time they try to run, they are already too broken to survive. The girl who escapes? She left a journal behind… The last line reads, 'He's not done. He will not be until...one...one is bound to find.'"
"Mom...early in the morning it is, and you are telling me about this? Stop... I have a whole day coming in front of me."
"Okay... I'll hang up for now... but be safe and enjoy your day."
"Yes, I will!"
An eerie feeling rushed into me about what my mom had told me...this was not eerie but more like an uncomfortable one...how could someone do such a monstrous and heinous act?
I shook my head, trying to brush off the chill her words left behind. It was probably just one of those viral stories meant to scare people, I told myself. But that line, "He's not done. He will not be until... one… one is bound to find" kept playing on a loop in my head. Like a haunting whisper.
I looked out the window. The sun was out, but everything looked dim. Maybe it was just me, my eyes still swollen, my heart still too fragile to let any light in. Maybe that's what heartbreak does; it doesn't just hurt, it colors the world differently. Makes you question everything, even yourself.
It was a week since this incident had occurred and I was was also getting better. Packing my stuff and locking my room, I called Maitrey to ask her when she'll be back in the college because it had been a week since I had seen her, but same as every other day...she didn't picked up. Weird.
Walking to the university gate, I noticed the usual crowd, the same buzzing, laughing groups. The same couples, lost in their own worlds. I used to daydream of being one half of a pair like that, maybe with Dhiren. Now, that dream seemed like an old, crumpled letter tossed into the wind. Lost and unread.
I tried Maitrey again. Still no answer. It wasn't like her. She always texts back, even when she can't talk. Something felt…off. But maybe it was just me again, overthinking everything, because that's what heartbreak does too; it turns every silence into suspicion and every coincidence into a warning sign.
Inside the classroom, I took my usual seat by the window, the one I had claimed as my own since the first semester. Dhiren walked in a few minutes later, laughing with a group of boys. That smile, the one I used to think was mine, even if just for fleeting moments, was now shared freely, openly, like it never belonged to me in the first place. I quickly turned my face to the window, pretending to be interested in the view outside, anything to avoid eye contact.
My hands trembled as I opened my notebook, pretending to be lost in scribbles. I didn't want to cry, not here, not again. But the weight in my chest refused to lift.
Sometimes, the hardest battles are the ones we fight in silence, behind smiles, between lectures, beneath layers of "I'm okay."
But I am not okay.
And I don't know if I ever will be.
Not in the mood to talk to everyone, I continued scribbling in my notebook when all of a sudden the crowd in the corridor started running in one particular direction. Utter chaos and too much noise for me. I wanted some peace and quiet. I scrunched up my nose, and the frown got deeper. I rested my head on the desk.
"ANAIRA" My head immediately jolted up as nobody has called me in such a rush and breathless state.
"MAITREY...MAITREY..." SHE JUMPED OFF THE BUILDING." A sudden adrenaline rush in my body...my heart beating almost at an inhuman speed and my body getting numb... I couldn't react. I didn't know how to react. The saliva in my mouth almost immediately dried up, and I just watched him in pure horror.
The moment I regained my senses, I rushed out... trying to get out of my seat, the corner of the bench almost pierced me in the leg, but it was not important.
Running through the corridors never felt this long. Heavy breathing and the urge to see her immediately, I slipped two times on the stairs but managed to handle myself.
As I reached the third-floor corridor, people were still crowded near the edge, phones out, some crying, others just staring in shock. I shoved my way through, not caring how many people I pushed. I needed to see her. Needed to know it isn't true. That maybe, just maybe, it is all some twisted misunderstanding.
But as I got to the railing, I saw the crowd gathered below. Security guards pushing people back, an ambulance's siren wailing in the distance. And there, just barely visible, was a figure lying on the cold concrete, motionless.
My knees buckled.
It was Maitrey.
"No, no, no... please no..." I whispered. Hands trembling as they clutched the cold railing, eyes flooding instantly. My body shook as if it couldn't decide whether to collapse or scream. The tears came rushing out, blurring everything in front of me.
Someone pulled me back, trying to lead me away, but I yanked my arm free.
I couldn't understand how moments ago I was upset about him. My broken heart now felt like a trivial wound compared to the hurricane that just swept through me. How could I not have noticed? She hadn't picked up my calls, hadn't replied for days. I thought she was just busy or maybe ignoring me. I should've gone to her place. I should've pushed harder. I should've been there.
Suddenly, every smile she had faked played back in my mind. Every "I'm okay" echoed with new meaning. The late-night rants, the sighs between conversations… all clues, all cries for help that I missed.
My heart shattered all over again...this time, not for love, but for friendship.
I don't know how long I stood there, frozen in time. But everything had changed.
She jumped… And now, part of me feels like I should have jumped with her.
The guilt swallows me whole. And the world, once painful but bearable, turns colder. Darker.
Maybe we're all fighting battles no one sees. But sometimes, we lose people before we even realize they are fighting at all.
And now… the silence was unbearable.
What should I do... WHAT SHOULD I DO... The crowd is not letting me go and see her... There is only one single option… None of the crowd knows her, and none of them will follow her to the hospital. I immediately push the crowd aside, and just before they could close the door of the ambulance... I immediately stopped them.
"I'll go with her…" I form a breathless sentence.
"Ma'am...you can't."
"Sir, I will...please." He stood for a second, and after hearing my plea, he motioned me to sit inside the ambulance.
I climb into the ambulance, and there she is... jolly, happy, and smiling... she lies lifeless on this stretcher.
I sat beside her, my hands trembling as I reach for hers. Cold. Unmoving. Just yesterday it felt like, we were laughing at memes she sent at midnight, planning to get coffee once she is back on campus. How could she go from that... to this?
"Maitrey…" I whisper. "Why don't you tell me it has gotten this bad? Why don't you wait for me? I would listen; I swear I would drop everything and just... be there."
My voice breaks. I cover my mouth to stop the sob that rises in my throat. The paramedics work silently and efficiently while I sit in the corner, holding her hand like I could still bring warmth back into it.
I don't even realize we have reached the hospital until the back doors open and nurses rush in. They pull the stretcher out, and I follow, half-stumbling, half-running behind them.
Outside the emergency room, they make me wait. The cold white walls are suffocating, the sterile smell of antiseptic makes me nauseous. My phone buzzes continuously...calls from classmates, even one from Dhiren. I don't pick up.
I don't want him.
I want her back.
The door remains shut. I stare at it, willing it to open, willing some miracle to happen. That she'd walk out, sit next to me, and say, "You think I'd leave you that easily?"
But it stays closed.
Time passes. I don't know how much. Could've been minutes, could've been hours. The weight in my chest doesn't budge. It just grows heavier with every tick of the clock.
A doctor finally emerges. His face is unreadable.
"She's alive," he says.
Those two words make my knees buckle. Relief floods in so violently it knocks the breath out of me. Tears stream down my cheeks as I collapse into the chair behind me, whispering thank you over and over.
"But," the doctor continues, "she's unconscious. Critical head injury. Fractured ribs. Internal bleeding. We've stabilized her, but… the next 48 hours are crucial."
I nod numbly. My relief fades into worry again. She isn't safe yet. But she is here. She is still here.
And this time… I won't leave her side.
I sit there all night. Don't eat. Don't drink. I just sit outside the ICU with swollen eyes and a heart that feels both broken and whole at the same time.
I remember the late-night talks, the inside jokes, her goofy laugh, and her love for sunflower keychains and lemon tea. I remember every time she says, "I'm fine," and how I believe her.
Never again.
If she wakes up...when she wakes up...I'll remind her every day that she matters. That she's loved. That she doesn't have to carry it all alone.
Because love isn't always about romance.
It's friendship that catches you when you fall.
And this time, I will catch her.