Shruti

******

The cluster of bubble nests was bursting gradationally. I was in the big one, the blue-green dominating in thicker films and yellow hues in thinner films, an effervescent mixture of the reminiscences of my life. I was seeing my life collapsing to shambles by means of those bubbles.

When I was a child, I used to wonder how Cinderella felt when she was scared to reveal the real her—the frail woman who led a desolate life—to the Prince. She fled at the stroke of midnight since she could not afford to expose herself to the prince. I was precisely the same as her at that same moment.

I hid all the scars from everyone all my life and with one tear; I was going to be vulnerably shredded in front of the world.

Even if our circumstances were similar, I wasn't Cinderella. I'd put myself a little closer to Maleficent, a fatal curse for her enemies. And I was betrayed in the same way that she was.

Standing outside my home, where I had grown up and spent all my life, I could see many pairs of delighted eyes gazing out of the window of my room. They were aware. They knew it all. I wasn't someone who was going to go down that easily. But I was hauled into a game that I had no idea even existed. I felt as though my entire existence had been a deception, and I knew nothing of it.

******

A FEW HOURS BACK

******

Wearing kitten heels to work was a shitty idea. Like the world was collapsing shitty and not someone spilled coffee on my dress shitty. I applied the compact on my pale face and still looked horrible as if I was starved for weeks. I would have been prepared for a war in a week, but nobody could have ever prepared me for a baby, even in centuries. This was the third time I rushed with flash speed to my workplace restroom. After making sure I looked somewhat presentable I walked back to my desk. Considering the fact I was pregnant, I chose to be at my desk and fill in the boring data entry, but my morning sickness was not helping me.

"You all right?"

Katie appeared worried for me. She was a middle-aged woman who only worked because she used to feel bored when her children and husband went to their respective schools and jobs. She was seated right to me at the desk.

Feeling all weary, I offered her the broadest grin I could muster and replied, "Perfect."

"It's been your third. Hangover that bad?"

Of course, she assumed it was because of a hangover. Everyone in the organization knew I was single, and because of the impudent way I had rejected the sales executive's proposal two weeks prior, no guy dared to even look at me and no woman could pluck up the courage to bring up a man in their conversation.

"Friends were forcing."

"Oh, younger days, fresh faces, and high capacity. I miss those days." She made a chirpy remark and appeared to be lost in some sort of flashback. I gave her a small smile before I put a cease to the conversation I was not interested in and resumed my monotonous but convenient work. I kept adding information to the sheet. It wasn't exactly arduous work, but it was very dull. But because of the baby, I had to switch to such tasks. Besides, I could not sit idle and jobless when I had my child to take care of.

I was about halfway through my task when Lydia, my boss, came up to my desk.

"Shruti, you need to see Adam."

"Today?"

I wished for it to be some other day. I had already vomited the entire contents three times and was out of vigour. All I wanted was to call it a day, but luck was not on my side. Recently, luck drifted apart from my life. It never was with me, but at least the sufferings used to be bearable before.

"Right now."

I sighed as I felt my day turning to be a hectic one. There was no way I could have defied her. If anything Lydia would have known about my identity, she would never have hired me. But the fact was, even when I was known to a lot of people, she was not one of them. That was one of the prime reasons to be working for her event management organization. It was one of the many perks of not being known to everyone that I had a source of income. I made just enough money to get by and even save some. I once yearned for stardom, but that was a long time ago.

Aside from that, changing jobs wasn't easy. So, without hesitating and without even the slightest amount of annoyance, I got up, grabbed my things, and went to see Adam.

I arrived at the Holy Cross Hospital in just over twenty-five minutes to see Adam, and more specifically, Dr. Adam, for whom we were organizing an event. He wanted certain changes made to the first proposal we presented to him. Since he was a high-value client who made significant payments, I was required to be there rather than holding the meeting at our office or another location that would have been suitable for both of us and not just him.

Even though Adam was a doctor and I could have my tests done with the knowledge that he would keep them private since I would be his patient, I had no intention of ever opening my vagina to a man again, even if he was a doctor. Leave opening my vagina, I was not letting any man touch me ever again. I refused to go through any sort of testing with a man in charge. Although he was merely a doctor, it had been tough for me to have a male near me ever since the upheaval of my pregnancy. I was not the one who was used to getting triggered by a man's touch, but their presence had me kept on guard, rolling anxiety to the tips of my body.

Dr. Adam and I spoke for perhaps thirty minutes. After we finished, I went to Mindy's cabin. She was a different obstetrician that I was familiar with because we had planned her child's birthday party a month before.

When I told Mindy about my pregnancy she asked a nurse to get my blood sample.

Which of the two—guns or injections—is the one that people are more afraid of in general? The response was rather obvious. It was, of course, guns. But in my case, it was a different story. The injection was the one thing I was most frightened of, and guns tempted me. I had to purse my lips and close my eyes as the half-inch-long needle pierced my skin deeply. I sank the nails of my right-hand fingers into the leather seat of the chair I was sitting in.

It hurts, always like hell.

After getting some ounce of blood out of my system I returned to Mindy's cabin.

"Where is the father?" She asked with a smile on my face as I took a seat.

God! What does she need a father for?

"Normally, in such cases, the father is always available."

Always? Really? How about single mothers, then?

My baby did not need a father and I in no way needed a man to take care of my child.

'Dr. Cooper, it's Code Red.' I breathed a sigh of relief when Mindy was forced to leave quickly due to a sudden announcement, after having her junior take over the instructions she was to give me.

******

"What are you doing here?"

The day was not worse for me except for a little hectic until I heard that sly voice in the restroom while I was washing my hands. I made an assumption for the day to be fine a little too early when there was still time for the next day to appear. Alisha Merchant, the highest-paid supermodel of the era, was standing beside me with her arms crossed. If there was one word to define her, it would not be obnoxious, but imbecile.

Although I should have asked that question since she was from a royal family and neither she nor any other royal would ever want to enter that hospital. Other royals might think the location is ideal for publicity stunts or for feigning sympathy for the locals and patients. But Alisha would never, not even in her deadliest nightmares.

I turned off the water rather than answer her pointless question because talking to her might bring up someone I didn't even want to think about. Someone whose mention would make me feel things I was not ready for. Even when I placed my hands under the hand dryer's sensor, she remained deep-rooted at her spot. She was staring at me as if would make a hole in my head with her gaze.

"I am getting married in a week. He preponed our wedding. Won't you congratulate me?"

I restrained myself from giving her an evil look. She was back to acting like a complete moron. All I wanted was a tall glass of iced latte and my bed because I didn't want to waste any time with her. Contrary to my true nature, I did not immediately leave. I stayed back. Only because I had a strange feeling in my heart when I learned she was getting married in a week. It was not because of her but him.

"We had so much fun in Paris. He planned date nights, proposed to me, and we spent romantic nights together. You know, we fucked like it's our first time every night and...."

She kept on babbling, expressing excitement and there was this ringing in my head because of which I could hear nothing more. I was not supposed to feel that way. It was immoral for me to feel hurt and feel envious. After all, what or who she had was never mine to begin with, but my heart was not at ease. My heart was in pain, it was tormented. It felt as if I was standing between a well and the ditch.

Even after everything I tried my level best to keep my face from showing my emotions.

I marched to the exit door completely ignoring her, but she stood like a wall in front of me and the exit. Her face wore a continuous smile that never faltered.

"What do you want, Alisha?"

I already had too much on my plate to worry about. I didn't want her to say anything that might jeopardize what little serenity I still had. Furthermore, I was afraid of doing something to her she wouldn't like, and I had no desire to be a devil when I was pregnant.

"To show your fucking place."

"You never meant anything to him, Shruti. Get this shit inside of your head. And try to be out of his life just like you have been the past six months."

I knew better I meant nothing to him and in a way I deserved that pain and humiliation he put me through once. I was not going to see that man or associate with him, ever and it was for the best.

"You know why I am here?"

"I don't care." My words came out bitterly. My heart was pounding hard as I anticipated something heinous was about to be spouted my way.

"To have myself thoroughly examined. He wants us to plan a baby soon. This place won't pull attention. That's why I am here."

"So, now that you know your place, which is beneath us, the royals, I would want you to stay there. Because it won't take a single minute for me to crush you with my manicured, sharp nails."

She moved swiftly towards me. If it had been any other day, I would have taken action, but I was a little hesitant and scared that my baby would see me. I was anxious my kid would witness its mother acting like a nasty bitch. Moreover, I preferred: guns over nails. And my act would have killed her in seconds.

At that very time, my phone abruptly beeped with a text notification. I checked and discovered it was from my devious uncle. He had sent the picture of my packed stuff with a text which was more like a warning that said, 'Either take them today or we throw them out.'

If the things he was threatening to throw away had no sentimental value, I would not have cared. However, I had to take care of that bitch before I could get my belongings back. I pushed her against the wall, not too harshly, and I placed the gun's tip under her chin which I had begun to carry with me every time, after I found out I was pregnant.

"Try one more time messing with me and I won't give a thought before smashing your skull with just one bullet." She was scared as if shitting bricks. Her eyes filled with tremor and tears. Her lips quivered and I knew she would faint anytime soon. That one act was more than enough for me to show her rightful place.

Pushing her aside, I bolted out and texted Lydia to inform her I would be at the hospital for an hour more and headed to my house where I did not live anymore, from where I was allegedly thrown out.

I tried to be serene but I was not. My world was shattering bit by bit and it was going to burn to ashes in a week. He gouged my heart out of my body and broke it into uncountable pieces and I could do nothing. Nothing.

******

Anomaly shrieked from the walls of my house. The place, which should have smelled of nostalgia, reeked of viciousness. Nothing about that place seemed known to me. It was the same place where I had grown up and had lived all my life, the place where I laughed hard and harder I cried. But it did not seem so. It appeared as though only the structure was the same and I was in the house that existed in a parallel universe. My place creeped me out.

Shiv Saxena, my Uncle was there in the living room, standing right beside the fireplace. Surprisingly, neither his wicked wife nor his nasty daughter was with him. They were undoubtedly causing a mess of some sort. They enjoyed causing mayhem and spending money like it was falling from the sky. Ever since they entered my life, they had been acting the same way, but I remained silent out of respect and concern for Shiv Uncle. They enjoyed spending the money I used to earn through my sheer and diligent work, but I misinterpreted their motives and assumed they saw me as their own.

I strolled past the four-seater couch, which I had never seen before. I crouched down in front of my possessions to make sure there was everything I needed and that belonged to me. When I realized one of my valuables was missing, I became distraught. I could never lose it, as it was precious.

I stood up and gave my uncle a concerned and perplexed look.

"Where is the red box?"

"What do you even need that for?" His casual response infuriated me.

"That's my mother's."

"The mother you don't even remember?" He laughed as he walked slowly while holding his cane. He lit a cigar, took a drag, and sat down on one end of the sofa.

"It is not yours to have."

That man's arrogance set my soul on fire. Even though he used to treat me like his own daughter and take care of me, I failed to recognize him.

"I am the rightful owner."

"Says the one who shut her memories in guilt." I stared at him aghast as he spat venom.

"You really believed that I cared about you?"

He chortled, making fun of the respect and care I had for him, mocking the so-called concern he used to show me. I felt ashamed and extremely guilty for letting someone like him earn my trust without putting in much effort and destroying me. I craved a family, a family's love, and when I got one, I became selfish. And now I was repenting for it. It was me who dug my grave and nobody else was accountable.

"How could I care for you when you, your asshole father, and your criminal brother called my sister insane? And you... well, you forgot her. She never existed for you. You all killed my sister, and this is how I avenge her death."

"Dad loved her. Bhaiya worshiped her and I don't remember her because of an accident that happened a year later after my birth. The impact was so strong that I sometimes lock painful memories. And her death was the most painful." I screamed out. My lungs burned and pain mixed with irritation slid to every part of my body.

"That is what happens when you try to be ignorant of the truth and shut your memories. Accident? Really?" He roared, making me flinch. No one had ever shouted at me like that, not even Alex.

"You saw it all and did not save her or call for help. You saw her dying and did nothing. It seems not only you are an idiot, but clueless too." He got up, holding his cane in one hand and a cigar in another.

"Here is the thing, little brat. You all killed my sister and when your guilt of you putting your mother on the verge of death overpowered you, you locked that part of your memories."

Nothing he said made sense to me. I did not remember some parts of my childhood because of an accident. It had an enormous impact on me because once in a while this complete memory-locking thing keeps happening. The same happened recently that resulted in my pregnancy.

"You know why you don't have memories of your childhood? Because you are crazy. You not recalling your past is not normal Shruti. You are insane."

"I don't believe you," I yelled as I brushed away the tears that spilled out of my eyes.

"Don't trust me. Why don't you ask the doctor who treated you when you were in an asylum?" I was dumbstruck for a moment. His nonsensical talks had escalated to the level that all I wanted was to strangle him, forgetting our relationship.

"Now you better get out before I call the guards and have you thrown out." Fighting for my rights was not going to result in anything good, so I decided to leave at that time. I thought of planning something to have my mother's box, which was dear to me more than anything.

I would have tragically smothered to death if I had stayed there for just one more second. As I gathered my belongings and left, Shiv Uncle's words, as well as the voice of my inner self and mine, continued to echo in my thoughts.

Asylum.

Why did he mention it? I was in an asylum? No, why would I be? There was nothing wrong with me.

But is he really lying, Shruti?

He has everything already, what he would get after fucking up with your head?

Think Shruti, think. Try to remember your past.

******

The cameras' sparkling flashes, which I used to formerly find charming, now dazzled me. Since my vision was blurred, all I could see was the glittering environment. People who used to chase after me for a brief sight, for a momentary exchange of words, and who used to chant my praises were there to hound me. I was their opulent prey this time.

Words travel fast, faster than anything but secrets are unveiled at full tilt. It was known to me by then as I gulped and heard my erratic, scared heartbeats beating incessantly mixed with all the allegations being spewed my way. I was perspiring profusely.

'Did you have a sexual relationship with your father's former associate, Miss Saxena?'

'What do you have to say about your pregnancy reports?'

My mouth dried up, and I lost all awareness. I had never before found myself in a situation where I didn't know how to escape. Even when I wasn't at fault, they all hurled unjustified obscenities and accusatory hurls at me.

Something suddenly splashed in front of me, close to my feet. I stepped back in fear and discovered it to be an egg that had broken with the yolk spilling out.

I instinctively wrapped both of my hands around my stomach after the stuff from my hand dropped. I was afraid for my baby, not for myself. Nothing that was going on was my child's fault. I struggled to find a secure portal to keep my baby safe because my child was innocent. Even before giving birth, I was failing as a mother. But given that I lost my mother when I was a child and had no memories of her, it was inevitable.

Is there any way out for me and my baby?

Is there any mercy for a sin I had not even committed?

If not me, then at least someone please save my baby.

I whirled around and desperately peered at my house's closed door. The heavenly clouds hung in the sky, watching every atrocity with blank indifference. Even if my baby was innocent, I had been cruel to many people in the past, so it was only fair that I was suffering. But My kid was not involved in any of it.

I hastened back. With bated breath, I waited for every monstrosity to end as my blood ran cold. The place where one broken egg was lying was filled with more of them, broken, shattered, and splashed.

No, no, no.

This can't be happening.

This can't be happening.

However, the reality was, it was happening. Heaven, the divine, or whatever higher entity, carried out justice for my previous crimes alone was punishing me and my baby. I was the delinquent and the price for my vice was going to be paid by my kid, my unborn baby, who was my miracle.