Not Likely

The Day Never Ends

The doctor's eyes were fixed on the patient who was unconscious, his leg and feet in a cast, his face all black and blue, the only symbol of life being the beeping machine next to him.

I felt my heart drop as I took in the boy's appearance, having just seen him laughing yesterday, self consciously admitting that he had a crush on one of the associates in the office, while all of us asked him about his ideal girl.

How did he end up like this?

"He's badly bruised", the doctor finally volunteered information. "Bruised spleen, fractured cheek, broken leg- that must have been some RTA."

The way he said it was odd to me; he almost sounded like he was mocking that excuse. I turned to look at him, puzzled.

"Why do you say it like that?"

He gave me a grim look. "He called you. He came in by himself- not an ambulance- he said he was in an accident- we didn't hear of any nearby. He is terrified of calling his parents and did not volunteer any information about his family."

There was silence as Prashant and I exchanged a look.

"You know what that means, right?" the doctor asked me.

Fuck.

I wanted to say that word aloud but I was not sure the doctor would approve it.

But the anger that was bubbling inside me knew no bounds. I could see nothing but red because this was what Geeta Aunty would call as a particularly 'triggering' topic for me. Who the hell did this to this boy!

"Is he stable?" I bit out, barely able to talk normal.

"Yeah, it could've been worse, we can keep him under observation and-"

"Let me know about the billing and stuff- I will take care of it", I said, my eyes fixed on the kid who was resting on the bed, broken and beaten down by some brute who I knew I wouldn't let escape.

He replied something but I didn't hear him. "Can we go inside?" I asked suddenly.

"Yes, he's in a normal ward- you're allowed to go in."

Without hearing the rest of his doctorly prattle, I pushed open the door and walked inside, my breath catching in my throat when I saw the dark purple bruise on his face.

Harsh looked like a good natured boy who was just getting into the groove of college.

What was happening to him at home? Was it someone at home who did this to him?

"D." I didn't look around when Prashant walked in. "What do we do?"

I didn't know what to do. The anger inside me was so much that I couldn't even trust myself to speak.

Both of us looked at the unconscious guy. And then he opened his eyes and looked at the two of us, staring at him with varying expressions on our faces.

He looked at me and his eyes widened. "M-m-ma'am-I-"

"You don't have to speak yet", I said, my tone sounding surprisingly gentle, consider how absolutely incensed I was feeling right now. "Are you feeling okay?"

That was a stupid question, considering his current state of affairs, but he managed a weak smile. "S-sorry for calling you, Ma'am."

"Stop it", I snapped. "I am glad you called. And- I-I am glad you're-" I stopped talking because my voice broke. Taking a deep breath, I cleared my throat to try again. "Do you need something? Water or- can-can you drink water? Prashant, call the doctor and bring him here."