Anika sat motionless, her body rigid, her face blank like a lifeless mask. The heavy silence between her and Vikram was suffocating, yet she didn't flinch or react as his hand, slick with the stench of alcohol, still roamed over her. His breathing was uneven, a mixture of slurred murmurs and stifled anger, but she didn't care. The man beside her, whose body betrayed his repulsive desires, was nothing but a vermin now. Not a man. Not someone she could ever look at without disgust.
Her heart had long sealed itself off, a fortress of numbness and pain. The emotions she once felt — fear, anger, even a faint sorrow — had withered away. What remained was a hollow shell.
She no longer saw him as a man. To her, he was nothing more than vermin, crawling, vile, a parasite that had invaded her life.
Slowly, deliberately, she pushed his venomous hand away and stood.
She rose from the bed, her limbs stiff, and without looking back she walked out into the dim hallway. The faint glow from the moon outside barely touched her pale face. Aadhi was still knocking frantically on the door behind her.
"Vikram! Vikram, don't hurt her! Please open the door! Anu!" His voice cracked with desperation, fear slicing through it.
Anika didn't answer. She opened the door, stepping into the cool night air. The sight of her sister froze Aadhi in place.
Her clothes were crumpled beyond recognition, torn and stained. She had no shawls to cover her trembling frame. Her lips were swollen, torn, raw. He barely recognized his sister who looked broken, defeated, lost.
"Anu... are you okay?" His voice cracked, the protective brother trying to mask the terror that gripped his heart.
Anika looked at him, but the tiny warm light that usually danced in her eyes was extinguished. Now, only cold emptiness stared back.
"What do you expect me to say?" Her voice was low, biting. "Do you think I'm okay?"
Aadhi swallowed hard, fury bubbling like a volcano. "That bastard! I want to punch him!" Without hesitation, he turned and strode towards the room where Vikram lay passed out.
Anika's voice stopped him cold. "Why do you want to kick him only now? Do you think that if you hit him, I'll be fine?" Her tone was sharp, bitter, indifferent.
Aadhi's fists clenched. "Anu—"
She cut him off. "You know, I was afraid. You still made me stay here — in a stranger's house. I said one word, just one, because of my insecurities, and what did I get? Look at me now."
Aadhi's face crumpled, guilt breaking through his anger. "I'm sorry, Anu. I should've listened to you. I shouldn't have believed him."
Anika's eyes darkened. "You're a man too, Aadhi. Don't feel guilty for what happened. This… this isn't new to me."
Aadhi lowered his head, shame weighing him down. His heart broke at her words. They cut deeper than any punch ever could.
Silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating.
Anika's voice barely above a whisper, trembled as she asked, "Do you think... do you think Rajan will blame me? For fooling around with another man while carrying his child? Will he think I don't deserve to be his wife?" Her hand instinctively caressed her flat belly, trembling slightly as a tear slipped down her cheek.
"Anu..." Aadhi's voice broke as he saw the raw pain and guilt in her eyes.
She shook her head bitterly. "He will, won't he? He definitely will! No man will be happy with a filthy wife!" Another tear fell, her eyes burning from the sting of her own tears.
Aadhi's voice softened, "Anu..."
But she was silent after that, staring blankly into the distance, her vacant eyes telling a story of broken trust and shattered hope. Slowly, she turned and retreated to the room she had been staying in.
Aadhi stood there, torn and helpless. He had seen that same hollow gaze once before—when Rajan died, when he had gone to see Anika after the funeral. Back then, her eyes had held a flicker of warmth for him as her brother. But now? Now she looked at him as just another man, distant and unreachable. Tears stung his own eyes.
Anika locked the door behind her and headed to the bathroom. The cold water ran over her skin as she scrubbed furiously, scrubbing until her skin burned red and raw. She needed to wash away the filth, the shame, the memories of the evening. She rinsed until the water ran clear, but the filth remained inside her bones.
After the bath, she dressed in her usual white clothes, clean and simple. She wrapped her wide shawls tightly around her thin frame, like armor against a world that had turned so cruel.
She packed her things methodically. She didn't leave a single trace behind — no memory, no belonging, nothing left in that filthy house that had witnessed her broken dignity.
Outside, Aadhi had been silent, watching from the hallway.
His voice trembled when he finally spoke. "Anu… where are you going?"
"Somewhere I can feel safe. Really safe." Her words were steady but hollow.
He stepped closer, unwilling to let her go without a fight.
Anika stopped in her tracks, turning to face him with quiet authority. "Don't follow me. Aadhi, you've already done enough. Don't worry about me anymore. Live your life."
Her words hung in the air like a curtain falling.
He paused, struggling to understand. But when he blinked, she was gone. Vanished like smoke in the wind.
Aadhi searched for her for hours, asking neighbors, looking through the narrow alleys. But Anika had disappeared without a trace.
His heart hammered in his chest as he returned to the house. The place felt colder, emptier without her.
He packed his things silently, not even sparing a glance at Vikram who was sprawled on his bed. His hands shook with rage and helplessness as he left.
Dawn crept in through the grimy window when Vikram finally opened his eyes. His head throbbed, splitting with a sharp, unrelenting pain.
The room was crude—the one he had prepared for Aadhi to sleep in. But Aadhi's things were gone.
He should have left already.
His mind scrambled, trying to piece together the yesterday's events. Fragments of memories rushed back, stabbing him with unbearable clarity.
He remembered the college party — the drinks, the laughter, the careless fun. He was already tipsy when he left. Then he came home...
But after that…?
His mind clenched as flashes came—a argument between Anika and Aadhi, heavy with tension.
She had told him she didn't want to stay here. That no man was a gentleman. That men only needed the chance to show their perverted side.
The words stung like acid.
His pride and dignity trampled underfoot.
He recalled the moment when, fueled by anger and drunken arrogance, he had yanked her shawls off right in front of her brother, tearing down what little dignity she had left with cruel words.
Not just words.
He remembered locking her in the room.
He remembered her desperate begging, "Please... don't... I..." Her voice breaking as she tried to hold on to the last scraps of her dignity.
She had fought hard to hold back her tears, but when he kissed her—against her will—she went still.
Too still.
Her protest had dissolved into silent tears, but she hadn't screamed, cursed, or resisted like other girls might have.
His hands had violated her body, fingers roaming with possessive cruelty, marking her as his.
He remembered the filthy remarks, the deliberate show of his own vile desire—a grotesque display meant to dominate.
He had seen the fear, the disgust in her eyes.
But beneath that, a terrible truth.
He wasn't the first man to treat her like this.
That night, Aadhi's words echoed inside him, a bitter warning.
"Vikram anna, she… she's not like other girls. Please take care of her."
But had he cared?
Wasn't she right?
No man was a gentleman.
They only needed a chance to show their perverted side.
The shame and the fury warred inside him.
He frantically searched the room she had stayed in and knocked on the door. No answer.
The door was unlocked.
He pushed it open.
The room was empty.
Clean.
No trace of anyone having stayed there.
No sign of Anika.