Trapped in Darkness

The storeroom was too small.

Too dark.

Too silent.

The walls seemed to move closer with every breath I took, squeezing the air out of my lungs. Dust filled my nose. The smell of old cartons, damp wood, and fear clung to my skin.

I banged my fists against the door until my knuckles burned.

“Please… please let me out!” I screamed. “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. I promise I won’t talk to anyone without your permission.”

My voice cracked.

“They were only asking questions. I didn’t tell them anything. Please believe me.”

Silence.

Then his footsteps faded away.

The lock stayed shut.

And just like that, I was left alone.

For two days.

No food.

No water.

Only darkness, lizards, and the kind of fear that doesn’t just scare you—it changes you.

I screamed until my throat gave up.

I cried until my tears dried.

I begged until even hope got tired of listening.

Somewhere between fear and exhaustion, the world around me blurred.

And then everything went black.

I woke up with a jerk.

My chest rose and fell rapidly as if I had been running for my life. Sweat covered my face, my neck, my palms. My bedsheet was twisted around my legs, and for a few seconds, I couldn’t tell where the nightmare ended and reality began.

My eyes moved to the clock.

5:10 a.m.

Again.

I sat up and switched the fan to full speed, letting the cold air hit my face.

I was in my room.

I was safe.

At least my body was.

My mind, unfortunately, had other plans.

This had become my routine now—waking up before sunrise with pieces of my past sitting on my chest like stones. Two years had passed, yet those memories still knew exactly where to hurt me.

People say time heals everything.

Lies.

Time only teaches you how to smile while bleeding quietly.

I wiped my face and took a shaky breath. All I wanted was one peaceful night. One dreamless sleep. One morning where I didn’t wake up feeling like a prisoner in my own mind.

But peace and I had been playing hide-and-seek for two years.

And peace was clearly winning.

I got up, washed my face, and completed my morning routine. By the time I stepped out of my room, the house was slowly waking up.

Mom was in the kitchen.

Of course.

I had already told her I would cook breakfast today, but mothers had their own constitution—and apparently, my instructions had no legal value in her kitchen.

“Good morning, Mom,” I said softly.

She turned around. The moment she saw my face, her expression changed.

“You woke up again, beta?”

That was all it took.

No long speeches.

No dramatic music.

Just one question from her, and my carefully built walls collapsed.

She pulled me into her arms. I tried to hold back, but my tears betrayed me. Mom didn’t say anything for a while. She simply held me, rubbing my back like she could erase my pain with her palms.

After a few minutes, she sighed.

“It’s high time now. I will talk to Pandit ji and ask him to find a suitable groom for you.”

I pulled back immediately and stared at her.

Seriously?

My trauma was having a full-time job in my head, and Mom’s solution was marriage?

“Mom, we have already talked about this,” I said, my voice sharper than I intended.

I didn’t wait for her reply.

I picked up my coffee and walked back to my room.

I knew she was worried. I knew she wanted to see me settled and happy. But how could I explain that marriage wasn’t medicine? A husband wasn’t a bandage. And trust wasn’t something I could download overnight like a phone update.

I stepped out onto the balcony, wrapping my fingers around the warm coffee mug.

It was 5:45 a.m.

The morning breeze touched my face gently, almost apologetically. The sky was still soft, painted in pale blue and grey. The world looked peaceful.

Lucky world.

I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply.

For a few minutes, I allowed the wind to calm me.

Just a few minutes.

That was all I could afford before life started again.

Office: My Safe Place

By 7:30, I left for the office on my scooty after breakfast and packing my lunch.

I didn’t feel like going to the park today, so I reached office earlier than usual. And honestly, office was the only place where my mind behaved itself.

Work didn’t ask questions.

Work didn’t pity me.

Work simply demanded attention, and I was grateful for that.

I gave this job my hundred percent because Agarwal Uncle had placed his trust in me. He had given me a chance when I badly needed one, and I would never let him regret it.

At the office gate, the security guard smiled warmly.

“Good morning, beta.”

“Good morning, Uncle,” I replied with a small smile.

He was a middle-aged man with kind eyes and a habit of greeting everyone like they were family. Some people make you feel safe without even trying. He was one of them.

The office building had two floors, polished floors, glass cabins, and the constant sound of keyboards, ringing phones, and people pretending to be busier than they actually were.

My department was on the ground floor.

I reached my desk, switched on my computer, and started working.

Within half an hour, the office slowly came alive. Some staff members greeted me while passing by. Some didn’t even bother to look in my direction.

Fair enough.

I wasn’t exactly running for Miss Popularity.

My only real friend here was Manisha. We usually had lunch together, and the best thing about her was that she never forced me to talk about my life.

She accepted my silence.

That was rare.

Also, she had a massive crush on Rehan Sir.

Massive as in, if Rehan Sir sneezed, she would probably say, “Bless you, future husband.”

A little later, Manisha appeared near my table and secretly signalled toward Ms. Sharma.

I looked up.

And almost forgot to blink.

Ms. Sharma looked… different.

She was wearing a perfectly fitted one-piece dress, her hair was styled beautifully, and her makeup was done with extra dedication. She looked good, no doubt, though I always felt she looked prettier in her natural look.

But today?

Today she looked like she was ready for a corporate meeting and a wedding proposal at the same time.

I turned to Manisha with raised eyebrows.

She leaned closer and whispered, “Mr. Abhinav Kapoor is coming today.”

I stared blankly.

She sighed, disappointed in my general knowledge.

“Mr. Kapoor. Rehan Sir’s best friend. He’s coming for a collaboration meeting with our company.”

I waited.

She rolled her eyes and continued, “Mr. Kapoor, Rehan Sir, and Mr. Agarwal have a meeting this afternoon. And Ms. Sharma likes Mr. Kapoor.”

“Oh.”

That explained the fashion show.

I looked at Manisha. “How do you know all this?”

She gave me a look that questioned my existence.

“In this office, everybody knows everything. Except you.”

“Good,” I replied. “Less headache.”

She narrowed her eyes at me.

I shrugged and returned to my work.

If there was a collaboration meeting, they might need warehouse details too. By now, I knew what kind of documents were required during these discussions. So I started arranging all the data beforehand.

Being prepared had saved me many times.

And unlike office gossip, documents actually had a purpose.

Abhinav

The day was a disaster wearing a formal suit.

Back-to-back meetings had sucked the life out of me. I hated people who delayed work, forgot deadlines, and then looked at me like I was the villain for expecting basic responsibility.

But to be fair, I wasn’t a rude boss.

At least, according to me.

My employees could approach me for office problems, personal issues, or even advice. I listened. I helped.

But if someone came to me with excuses instead of work?

Then God help them.

By afternoon, I badly needed a break. Unfortunately, my calendar had no respect for my emotional state.

I had a meeting at Rehan’s office.

We were collaborating on an export order, and since Rehan was my best friend, I thought things would be simple.

Big mistake.

That man wanted everything formal, documented, signed, stamped, and probably blessed by three generations.

Friendship outside.

Professionalism inside.

Wonderful.

I reached his office on time. For meetings, I was always punctual. Time was money, and I liked both.

I walked straight into Rehan’s cabin.

He looked up from a file and frowned.

“Will you ever knock?”

I sat down comfortably opposite him.

“Never.”

He shook his head. “Agarwal Uncle will be here in fifteen minutes. Then we’ll move to the conference room.”

I leaned back. “Seriously? We really need the conference room drama?”

“It’s business, not personal.”

I smiled. “Achha. Since we’re being professional, I need one person to check the product quality for this order.”

Rehan frowned. “We already do quality checks before delivery.”

“No, yaar. This is different,” I said, leaning forward. “The company we’re delivering to is extremely strict. I’ve dealt with them before. Their standards are not normal. Their rulebook probably has a rulebook.”

He listened carefully.

“The product has to be checked twice—before and after production. Not just regular checking. It has to match their specific norms. We can’t afford even one mistake.”

Before Rehan could respond, Mr. Agarwal entered.

“Abhinav is right,” he said. “I was thinking the same before coming here.”

Rehan nodded.

And just like that, my point got upgraded from “friend’s opinion” to “business wisdom.”

We moved to the conference room.

For the next two hours, we discussed everything—the contract, production schedule, quality checks, delivery conditions, risks, responsibilities, and all the tiny details that make business meetings feel like slow torture.

Finally, everything was settled.

“I’ll get the paperwork done,” I said. “Rehan, I’ll need staff from production and designing. The material has to be checked properly before export, and the assigned person will also need to visit the warehouse for inspection and packing.”

Rehan nodded. “I’ll check and give you the names. Then we can arrange transportation and other things.”

Mr. Agarwal shook hands with me.

“Nice meeting you, Abhinav. I’m glad to collaborate with you.”

“Definitely, Uncle. Same here.”

Then he turned to Rehan. “Take care of the paperwork and prepare the staff list. Let me know once it’s sorted.”

After saying this, he left for his cabin.

Rehan and I returned to his office. He ordered tea while I called my lawyer and asked him to prepare the contract.

Rehan called HR and requested the staff list from the designing and production departments.

A while later, the HR manager brought the list and handed it over.

Rehan started going through the names while sipping tea.

“How many staff members will you need?” he asked.

“Four from production,” I replied. “And one or two from designing.”

He nodded and continued scrolling through the list, checking who could handle the extra responsibility.

I watched him for a few minutes.

Then boredom attacked.

And when boredom attacks, friendship suffers.

“So,” I said casually, “where is Mia?”

Rehan’s head snapped up.

He glared at me.

“Same place where your Sunshine is.”

My smile disappeared.

Low blow.

Before I could reply, there was a knock, and the cabin door opened.

“Where is Dad?”

Mia stood at the door.

And Rehan froze.

Completely.

His body was in the cabin, but his brain had clearly resigned.

He just stared at her like she had personally paused his operating system.

I kicked his leg under the table.

He turned to me, annoyed.

“She asked you something,” I whispered. “Answer her before she thinks you’ve lost speech function.”

He blinked and looked back at her.

“He… he must be in his cabin.”

Mia shook her head. “No, Dad is not there. I already checked.”

She walked inside, greeted me politely, and sat on the sofa beside Rehan’s chair. Picking up a magazine from the side table, she made herself comfortable.

Rehan, meanwhile, looked like his heartbeat had started doing garba.

I had to bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from laughing.

Since my best friend had temporarily turned into furniture, I introduced myself.

“Hi, I’m Abhinav.”

She smiled. “Mia.”

We shook hands and talked for around fifteen minutes. She was cheerful, polite, and completely unaware that Rehan was staring at her like she was the answer to every prayer he had never admitted saying.

Poor boy.

Love had hit him hard.

Without helmet.

Finally, Mia turned to him.

“Tomorrow is the last date to pay my college fees. Since morning, I haven’t been able to talk to Dad. I’m sure he’ll forget tomorrow too, so I came here directly.”

Rehan straightened immediately.

“Your college fees have already been paid, Mia. I paid them in the morning.”

I looked away.

Because if I looked at him, I would laugh.

This man forgot his own meals but remembered her college fee deadline.

Priorities, ladies and gentlemen.

Mia smiled. “Oh. Thank you, Rehan. Okay, please tell Dad I came here.”

Then she walked out of the cabin, leaving behind the faint scent of her perfume and a best friend whose soul had just done a happy dance.

The moment the door closed, I burst out laughing.

“Wah, bhai. College fees also? What’s next? Attendance tracking?”

He punched my arm.

Hard.

“Ouch! Violence is not the answer.”

“For you, it is,” he muttered.

After that, Rehan was in no mood to check the staff list. He closed the file and released a long breath like he had survived a cyclone named Mia.

“We’ll do this tomorrow,” he said.

I winked. “Obviously. Your emotional balance needs recovery time.”

He tried to glare but ended up grinning.

“To celebrate our collaboration, let’s go out for dinner tonight,” I said. “Our cook is on leave, and I am not in the mood to cook for both of us.”

Rehan leaned back with full seriousness.

“Waise… can you explain how to make Maggi?”

I stared at him.

He stared back.

I raised my hands in surrender.

“Okay. I give up. Let’s go out for dinner because our cook is on leave and because you are a threat to instant noodles. Satisfied?”

He laughed. “Very.”

“But you’ll have to wait until I finish my work,” he said.

“Fine.”

I sat on the couch and made a few calls to my lawyer while Rehan returned to his files.

For five peaceful minutes, the room was silent.

Then Rehan looked up.

His expression was too innocent to be trusted.

“Waise, Abhi… just a thought.”

I didn’t like where this was going.

“Mia was here,” he continued, smirking, “but where is your Sunshine?”

I glared at him.

He smiled wider.

I went back to my phone.

Some questions were better left unanswered.

Especially the ones that had the power to disturb things I had carefully buried.