AAROHI

Doctor on the Edge

Hey guyss

I am updating when I am free and had holidays between my exams but there is no proper response at all . It makes us feel demotivated to write at all . So , vote and comments which will motivate us more .

Plot : when aarohi decides to get medical help

I save lives everyday . No one noticed I was dying inside.

The hallway reeked of disinfectant and sweat.

Somewhere down the corridor, a monitor beeped too fast. A code blue announcement echoed, and footsteps thundered past. She didn’t flinch. Didn’t move.

Dr. Aarohi Goenka-Birla was frozen in the corridor, her stethoscope cold against her collarbone, her hands still faintly stained with surgical gloves.

She had just saved a child. A four-year-old girl with a collapsed lung and too much blood for such a tiny body.

She had stitched. Resuscitated. Stabilized.

She had told the parents, “She’s going to make it.”

They cried. Fell at her feet. Called her goddess.

And still…
Aarohi felt nothing.

Her fingers trembled. Not from exhaustion.

From a void she couldn’t name.
I save lives every day.
No one notices I’m slowly dying inside.

It wasn’t just today.

It had been months.

Maybe years.

She wasn’t sure when the dull ache behind her eyes became constant. When she started snapping at interns. When Ruhi’s school stories began feeling… distant. When Abhimanyu’s kindness began feeling like another language.

She had learned to mask it.

After all, Aarohi was the strong one.

The one who didn’t collapse when Neil died.
The one who didn’t cry after her C-section scar turned purple.
The one who ran a hospital shift the day after she had a panic attack at 3 a.m.

They call me efficient. Focused.
Disciplined.
Not once did they say: exhausted. breaking. numb.

His name was Dr. Vihaan Sen.
Psychiatrist. New in the hospital. Observant eyes, minimal words.

He wasn’t nosy.

But he noticed.

He was sipping black tea in the cafeteria when he saw her stand motionless in front of the coffee machine. For seven full minutes.

You didn’t blink  he said gently.

Aarohi turned slowly Excuse me?

You didn’t blink once.

She scoffed Maybe because I didn’t need to.

He paused Or maybe because blinking would mean breaking focus. And breaking focus would let everything in.

Something in her chest twisted. She left without replying.

But she came back the next day.

And the next.

And on the fourth day, she sat opposite him and said:

“Don’t analyze me. Just let me talk.”

He nodded once. “Okay.”

It started small.

“I sleep four hours a night.”

“My hands go cold when I hold babies.”