Falling Into Oblivion

Chapter 4: The Plan and the Escape

In the bustling cafeteria, the social hierarchy is on full display. Danish and his friends occupy the best table, closest to the serving area, with a clear view of everyone entering and exiting.

Danish leans back in his chair, casually scanning the crowd.

A student walks by, carrying a tray of food. Rohit, another rich kid, sits nearby and watches the student with a mischievous smile. "Watch this," he whispers to Danish, sticking out his foot. The student trips, and his tray goes flying, food scattering everywhere.

The room erupts in laughter, Danish's group leading the charge. "Nice one, Rohit!" Surendra calls out, clapping him on the back.

The cafeteria staff, though sympathetic, do nothing. They exchange worried glances but know that intervening could mean trouble for them. The scholarship student, cheeks burning with humiliation, quickly gathers his things and leaves, the laughter of the elite group ringing in his ears.

Ranveer shakes his head, still chuckling. "When will they learn to watch where they're going?"

Pranav nods, his expression smug. "Probably never. It's almost too easy."

The other students, seeing this, make a point to avoid walking too close to the group, the fear of becoming the next target palpable in the air. They whisper among themselves, casting wary glances at Danish and his friends.

As the laughter dies down, Danish turns to his friends, a satisfied smirk on his face. "Let that be a lesson to everyone," he says. "We run this place, and it's about time they remember that."

Surendra raises his drink in a mock toast. "To us, the kings of the campus."

"To us," the others echo, their voices filled with arrogance.

...

Banhi sat on her bed, her eyes puffy from crying. Dhriti sat beside her, holding her hand. The doorbell rang, and Banhi's heart skipped a beat. Dhriti opened the door to reveal Mohit, Anala, and Meeta, their expressions a mix of concern and determination.

Mohit and Anala are brother sister that live right next door. Whist Meeta lived upstairs and is the same age as Mohit 25.

"Banhi, kya hua? Batao humein," Mohit said, sitting down on the bed beside her.

Banhi took a deep breath, her voice trembling. "Danish ne changing room mein mujhpe haath dala. Woh mujhe... assault karne ki koshish kar raha tha."

Meeta gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "Oh my God, Banhi! Tumhe kuch serious toh nahi hua na? Tumhe usse dur rehna chahiye."

"Dur rehna?" Mohit exclaimed, his eyes blazing with anger. "Agar woh yeh kisi aur ladki ke saath karta ya kuch aur zyada bura hota toh? Humein police ke paas jaana chahiye."

Anala frowned, her arms crossed. "Haan, Mohit sahi keh raha hai. Danish ko sabak sikhana zaroori hai."

Meeta shook her head. "Par police kya kar payegi? Danish ke paas power aur paisa hai. Woh sabko buy out kar lega."

They argued for a bit, their voices overlapping in concern and frustration. Finally, Mohit raised his hand, silencing them.

"Sunno, humein saboot chahiye," he said firmly. "College ke CCTV footage ko dekhte hain. Hallway aur canteen mein toh cameras honge."

Banhi sighed, wiping her tears. "Par Changing room mein cameras nahi hain."

"Obviously Banhi," Mohit told her, his expression determined. "Usne tumhe jab zabardasti kiss kiya tha aur tumhe aur uske doston ne jab tumhe lock kiya tha, uska footage hoga."