Just A Friend?

Chapter Thirty-Two

The relentless storm was a reflection of Prabhas's fractured soul. The clouds, swollen with their burdens, seemed determined to never relent, mirroring the weight that hung heavy in his own heart. The rain poured down in torrents, drumming relentlessly against the pavement and the sparse vehicles on the road, which included Prabhas's car. It was as if the very heavens themselves were mourning his plight.

In the midst of this tempest, Prabhas's car hurtled through the darkness, barely visible through the torrential downpour. He drove with reckless abandon, his movements a blur as he sped along the deserted streets. The scene might have resembled something out of a cartoon—a streak of light racing through the storm. But this was no cartoon. This was real, and the reality was grim.

His right hand gripped a whiskey bottle as if it were his last lifeline, the other hand stubbornly clinging to the steering wheel. His eyes, barely open, struggled against the onslaught of the storm and the effects of the alcohol. The bottle was a temporary solace, a way to drown the agony that consumed him. Every time he glanced at the empty passenger seat, it seemed to morph. For a fleeting second, he could see Sweety sitting there, her eyes brimming with an ethereal light, only for her figure to vanish as quickly as it had appeared.

The wipers on his car fought valiantly against the rain, struggling to clear the windshield and offer some semblance of visibility. But the downpour was relentless, and the visibility was almost nonexistent. Bolts of lightning slashed through the sky, illuminating the chaos for mere moments, while the thunder roared with an unforgiving fury that rattled the very core of his being. The wind screamed its rage through the city streets, a violent symphony of nature's wrath.

Prabhas could barely keep his eyes open, and just as he tried to focus, a blinding flash of lightning struck a tree. The massive trunk splintered and fell across the road with a resounding crash. There was no time to react. His car collided with the fallen tree, the impact a shattering jolt that sent him reeling.

The airbags deployed with a sudden force, throwing him backward. His face slammed into the cushion, and he felt the sickening crunch of his nose breaking. The sound of metal crumpling against concrete was almost deafening, and the car flipped and rolled, its trajectory a chaotic dance of destruction before it finally came to a halt. Silence descended upon the scene, a stark contrast to the earlier cacophony.

Seconds dragged by as Prabhas struggled to open his eyes. His vision was a hazy blur, and a persistent buzzing filled his ears. The metallic taste of blood lingered in his mouth, mingling with the acrid stench of alcohol. His body was wracked with pain, every movement a reminder of the torment he felt. The agony was excruciating, but it paled in comparison to the emotional pain he had endured.

As his vision slowly cleared, he saw Sweety standing before him, her face illuminated with a mesmerizing smile that had always made his heart race. "I had an amazing day with you, Pabsu," she said, her voice a sweet melody that tugged at the remnants of his heart.

He blinked, and her form shifted, becoming the cheerful, chubby figure he had loved. "You know I love jalebi. They are my favorite," she said with a playful grin, her eyes sparkling with affection.

Another blink, and she transformed into the young girl he had first met, her excitement palpable. "You love Sakthimaan? Me too!" she exclaimed, her joy infectious as she jumped with enthusiasm.

But then, the vision of Sweety faded, replaced by the figures of his family, their faces alight with love and pride. "Prabhas, come here. Mom made your favorite dish today," Sridevi said, her tone warm and inviting.

"Son, you've grown up. I am so proud of you," Ragu's voice boomed with paternal pride, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

"Darling, I love you," Rakesh said with a brotherly smile that spoke volumes of their bond.

As these cherished memories flashed before his eyes, Prabhas's heart ached with a profound sense of loss and regret.

"Death is calling me," his mind whispered, "My time on this earth is done. I've failed to bring joy to those around me. I am neither a good son nor a good friend. I am sorry. I have failed in my life. It's time to leave this world. Death, embrace me and grant me the peace I seek."

With these final, sorrowful thoughts, Prabhas's eyes grew heavier, the weight of his regrets pulling him into the abyss. The storm outside raged on, a fitting accompaniment to his final moments as he slipped into unconsciousness.

_______^-^_______

The chaos outside mirrored the storm within their hearts. The storm that raged through the city was nothing compared to the tempest of fear and desperation that gripped Rakesh, Sridevi, and Ragu.

"Why did you let him out this time?" Rakesh's voice roared with frustration, slicing through the air like a jagged bolt of lightning. His eyes were stormy with anger and worry, and his face was twisted in a mask of anguish.

"We tried to stop him! He was too fast, Rakesh! I... I was scared," Sridevi's sobs were interspersed with gasps for breath. She clutched Rakesh's arm as if it were a lifeline, her tears mingling with the rain that battered the windows.

"Okay, relax, aunty. I've sent drivers out to find him. We'll get through this. He'll be fine," Rakesh's voice softened as he pulled her into a comforting embrace. He tried to soothe her with his presence, though his own heart was heavy with dread.

"Let me go and check on him," Ragu's voice was filled with a fierce resolve. His eyes were aflame with a determination born of paternal love.

"No, uncle! It's too dangerous outside," Rakesh's tone was firm yet filled with underlying worry. "We need to wait for information. Nothing good can come from putting yourself at risk too." Despite his reassurances, his insides churned with an unsettling premonition.

Rakesh pulled out his phone with shaking hands and dialed the number of his driver. The seconds stretched into agonizing minutes as he waited for the line to connect.

"Any information about Prabhas?" Rakesh's voice trembled with urgency as he spoke into the phone.

"No sir, the road conditions are horrendous. Trees have fallen everywhere. I've sent Michael to check the east side of the city. It's chaotic out here," the driver's voice crackled through the line, laced with anxiety.

"Make it faster, please!" Rakesh urged, his voice nearly breaking. He ended the call abruptly, unable to mask the deepening worry in his eyes.

"Did they find him?" Ragu's voice was a mixture of hope and desperation. He paced the room, the weight of worry etched into every line of his face.

"No, uncle," Rakesh replied, his own heart sinking further with each passing second. "The conditions are just too dangerous. The drivers are doing everything they can."

Sridevi, overcome by a wave of helplessness, retreated to the prayer room. The silence that followed her departure was deafening, punctuated only by the relentless howling of the storm outside.

Inside the dimly lit prayer room, Sridevi fell to her knees. "God, please," her voice was barely a whisper, but it carried the weight of a mother's anguished plea. "Please make sure my son is safe. Watch over him. Bring him back to us. I don't know what we would do without him. Please protect him from harm."

As she prayed, the others remained in anxious silence, their eyes fixed on their phones, each waiting for any news that would alleviate their fears. The storm outside raged with relentless fury, as if the heavens themselves were mourning along with them.

To be continued...