Choices

CHAPTER | 9

A high-pitched scream woke Vijay up. For a second, he couldn't recognize where he was or what he had been doing on the cold floor.

The scream was same as the scream he had heard when had had walked out of his house in his village late at night. The night which had turned him into a monster of sorts. The night where he saw a young mother running with her infant of only a few days old.

Vijay had wanted to help the woman. To tell her that everything would be fine, and she didn't have to worry about losing her child. He only wanted to console and distract her from what she was doing. That was the least he could do, anyway.

At nights where he was too stressed, he could almost see the mother's red, vigilant eyes glancing every corner assuming the worst. He could hear the rapid thumping of her heart which bet only to save her child. He could feel the nervousness that raked through her spring to life in him, making a tangling mess and revolving around his neck like a ruse.

Often on nights like those, he heard the scream of the same mother who had plunged into the well along with the infant on seeing him. He had followed her to make sure that she was okay, but apparently, he had scared her away to death.

The guilt habitually loomed on him making him the prisoner of his conscience. Making him weak in the eyes of the society. It was the sole reason he had changed his courses to become a journalist. To overcome his fears of seeing others die in this wretched world.

He had made reports on bombing, criminal assaults, dirty politicians and even the wars. Even when all of those topics were difficult and dangerous, the scene that had taken place right in front of him was too hard to erase.

"NO!" The scream started again. This time, the shriek was too much to bear, reminding him of the night years ago.

Vijay got up immediately and looked around, trying to remember where he was. When the events of last night loomed down on him, he was in attention, cursing himself for letting his friend drag him to the brothel.

On the bed, the girl, her name... Pinky, was withering as if she was in pain. Her eyes were closed, yet tears leaked on the sides. A sudden urge to keep her safe swept past him and without thinking, Vijay got up from his cold floor and sat on the bed maintaining a safe, respectable distance.

The girl was acting as if someone was holding her down to the bed. Her fists were held tight. Her ankles kicked the sheets away. Little beads of perspiration formed on her fair forehead.

"Pinky, Pinky..." Vijay started.

Having woken up to nightmares himself, Vijay knew how real the monsters behind closed lids could be. But this girl was literally a stranger, yet he couldn't stop paralleling his nightmares to hers.

"Wake up." Vijay lightly shook her hand, trying to get her to wake. But the girl was still struggling and crying.

"No, please, no." Pinky had started to beg now. "You are hurting me... stop... please.... Don't do this to me!"

Vijay faltered backwards with the words. A tight fear gripped him, and it suffocated him, running a cold chill down his spine.

That meant... Pinky here was another girl who had entered the slaughtering house unknowingly. And having gotten in, she had been stuck not seeing a way out. She had been trafficked and was probably raped – God knew how many times. Vijay wondered how many Pinkys were out there in those closed doors of this pathetic hotel crying her eyes out once the guy was done with them.

"Hey, you are alright now." Vijay shook more vigorously, trying his best to make sure that she woke up and realized that she was okay... at least for now. "Pinky, wake up!"