𝐇𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐫, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐆𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐬.
Love is hope for the hopeless and sin for the saint. Love is both a salvation for the lost and a temptation for the righteous. It drives people to cross lines they swore ne...
📌 Warning: Description of suicide but not encourage (if you are dealing with suicidal thoughts please don't take any wrong step and I pray for your happiness! Trust me everything will be alright), Blood, Inhuman behaviour, torture, murder, body mutilation/amputation, etc.
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Continuation of the past...
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5 years ago...
Rutvik: 15 ; Nahella: 13
When you're a prisoner, there is no compassion. The guard's fingers gripped my shoulder like I was a stray dog he had to drag out the gates. The khaki on his back didn't match the red in his eyes. Must've been a rough night. Or maybe I was just the punching bag for someone else's bad morning.
"Chal, kaam pe," he grunted, nudging me forward with the his lathi.
{ "Go to work" }
I didn't resist. No point. Resistance here meant bruises. Silence meant survival. So I walked-head down, slow steps against the concrete corridor as we made our way toward the work zone. Today's shift was bundling old newspapers. Perfect company for me because I can't read and write. I never bother to take education provided here. No use isn't it? When you don't know about your future.
They choose illiterate Prisoners to assemble useless papers because they can't read any news headlines in the paper.
"Do it properly today, 704," the jailer barked from the side, his eyes scanning me like I was already guilty of slacking off. "Last time you tied those papers like your brain's missing bones. If you mess up again, you will have you scrub every toilet block in the west block. Samjha?"
I gave a short nod. That was enough. He didn't want words, just obedience.
We passed the main courtyard, where the noise of clanging chains and shouts usually filled the air. But today, something... shifted. Like the sound around me dipped low, pulled into silence for a second.
