CALL HER
I pulled off my gloves slowly, the faint snap of latex echoing in the sterile quiet of the room.
The smell of antiseptic clung to my hands as I walked to the sink and washed them, letting the cold water run over my skin longer than necessary—like I was trying to wash away more than just the remnants of work.
“What is the gender of the baby?” Krithi asked, her voice filled with that familiar curiosity that never seemed to fade.
“Girl,” I said, a small smile forming on my lips as I wiped my hands with a tissue.
“Ohhh yesss!” she beamed, her eyes lighting up with genuine happiness.
“Got a girl after two boys,” I muttered, pulling the stool closer and sitting down, the slight exhaustion in my body finally catching up to me.
Before I could settle fully, a hand landed on my shoulder.
I turned slightly.
Anish.
“How’s life treating you?” he asked casually, as if we hadn’t seen each other in days, as if nothing had changed.
I scoffed softly, shaking my head.
Same question.
Different day.
Same answer… unsaid.
Since I joined this hospital, these two were the only ones who treated me like I still belonged somewhere. No judgment. No distance. No unnecessary questions digging into places I didn’t want touched.
Just… normal.
And right now, that felt rare.
I leaned back slightly on the stool, running a hand through my hair as I let out a quiet breath.
“Complicated,” I muttered finally, my voice low but honest.
“Why complicated?” he asked, dragging another stool and sitting beside me, leaning forward with genuine curiosity.
“You are single… living alone… no pressure from parents around you all the time. You have your own space, your own choices. Then why not happy?”
Single.
The word hit me strangely.
I clicked my tongue softly, looking away for a second.
Yeah… single.
If only it was that simple.
I haven’t told them.
Why should I?
If I say I’m married now… then in a few months, I’ll have to say I’m divorced. I’ll have to explain everything. Answer questions I don’t even have answers for. Watch their expressions change.
It’s easier this way.
Less messy.
Less real.
I leaned back slightly, resting my elbows on my knees, staring at the floor for a moment before letting out a quiet breath.
“Not everything that looks peaceful is actually peaceful,” I said, my tone calm, but carrying something deeper underneath.
Anish frowned slightly, not fully understanding but not pushing immediately either.
“Living alone doesn’t mean living freely,” I added after a pause, my voice quieter now. “Sometimes it just means… there’s no one to witness what you’re going through.”
The words slipped out before I could stop them.
I straightened a little, brushing it off quickly before it turned into something more.
“Anyway,” I muttered, forcing a small shrug, “too much peace also becomes boring.”
Krithi narrowed her eyes at me like she knew I was dodging something.
And she was right.
But some things…
Are easier to hide behind simple words than explain in truth.
“Guys, emergency case!”
The call cut through the air like a sharp blade, leaving no space for thoughts, no space for anything personal.
We didn’t even look at each other.
All three of us stood up at once, stools scraping against the floor as we rushed out without another word.
And just like that—
The chaos returned.
I clicked my tongue in irritation as my feet moved faster, almost running toward the emergency ward. The calm from a few seconds ago shattered completely, replaced by the familiar urgency that never gave us time to breathe.
This is how it always is.
No warning.
No pause.
No mercy.
One moment you’re sitting, talking about life…
The next, you’re running to save one.
The corridor lights flashed past me as my mind emptied itself automatically, pushing away everything else—her, the house, the thoughts that kept suffocating me.
There was no space for that here.
There was only this moment.
This patient.
This responsibility.
I pushed the door open and stepped inside, my expression hardening instantly, every trace of personal chaos locking itself away behind professionalism.
Because here—
I don’t get the luxury to fall apart.
I rushed in, the air already thick with panic and noise. Doctors were moving quickly, nurses calling out instructions, stretchers being pushed aside to make space.
And then I noticed—
Police.
Standing there.
That alone was enough to make something in my chest tighten.
What happened?
Did someone important get attacked?
I frowned, moving quickly toward the head doctor. “Ma’am, what happened?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
“Rape case,” she muttered in urgency before rushing away.
I froze.
For a second, everything around me blurred.
Rape.
The word alone was enough to make my stomach drop.
I swallowed hard and forced my legs to move, pushing myself toward the patient.
The scene was chaotic.
Her parents were screaming, their voices breaking, raw and uncontrollable. They were arguing with the police, shouting, crying, demanding something—justice, answers, anything. The officers tried to control the situation, but emotions had already taken over.
People surrounded the bed.
Too many people.
I couldn’t even see the patient.
My jaw tightened.
“Sir, move away! This is not the place to fight—get out!” I shouted, my voice cutting through the noise as I pushed through them, forcing space where there was none.
One by one, I dragged them aside, my patience thinning with every second wasted.
This wasn’t about them.
This was about her.
And when I finally reached the bed—
My body froze.
For a moment… I couldn’t breathe.
A little girl.
So small.
Barely three… maybe four years old.
Lying there.
Fragile.
Broken in a way no child should ever be.
Something inside me cracked.
Not loudly.
But deep enough to hurt.
The room tilted for a second, voices blurring into noise, the chaos behind me turning distant and too loud at the same time.
People were still shouting. Arguing. Crying.
I couldn’t take it.
“You all just get out!” I shouted, my voice breaking through everything as I turned toward them, anger rising not at them—but at the situation, at the helplessness of it all.
The police stepped in then, pushing the relatives out, clearing the space, forcing order where there was none. One by one, they were taken outside, their cries fading but not really leaving.
And then…
It was just her.
On the bed.
Fighting to breathe.
Her tiny chest rising and falling unevenly, like even that was too much for her body to handle.
She couldn’t even open her eyes.
Her face…
Covered in wounds.
Too much for someone that small.
The blanket covered her, hiding what I didn’t want to see but knew was there.
I stepped closer. Slowly.
My hand reached out on its own.
And I pulled the blanket down—
Only for my eyes to snap away immediately.
“Oh my God…”
The words barely left my lips.
I couldn’t look.
I couldn’t.
My hands started trembling uncontrollably, my vision blurring as my eyes burned. My chest felt tight, like something was pressing against it, making it harder to breathe.
This…
This wasn’t something I could prepare for.
The reality of it—
Too raw.
Too brutal.
Too wrong.
I saw the red spreading, staining what should have never been touched by something like this.
My stomach twisted violently.
No.
I can’t do this.
I can’t—
There were already doctors around her. Nurses moving quickly, doing what needed to be done.
They were stronger.
They could handle it.
Because right now…
I couldn’t.
I dropped the blanket back down without thinking, stepping away, my movements unsteady as I turned and walked out of the room.
The moment I stepped outside—
I exhaled sharply, like I had been holding my breath this whole time.
My hands were still shaking.
And no matter how much I tried—
I couldn’t get that image out of my head.
I felt it hit me all at once.
A wave of dizziness.
WHAT THE FUCK
I walked to the waiting area without knowing how my legs carried me there. The moment I sat down, it felt like my body finally gave in. I leaned forward, gripping my hair tightly in my hands as if that could stop everything inside me from falling apart.
But it didn’t.
Nothing did.
Her parents’ screams echoed through the corridor—raw, broken, unbearable. It didn’t sound like crying. It sounded like something inside them was being torn apart.
I shut my ears with my hands, shaking my head.
“No… no…”
I didn’t want to hear it.
I couldn’t hear it.
But even in silence… it was still there.
Louder than before.
The image of that little girl flashed again in my mind. Her tiny body… those wounds… the way she struggled just to breathe.
My chest tightened painfully.
Tears slipped down without permission, blurring everything in front of me.
“Please…” I whispered under my breath, my voice breaking completely.
Please save her.
Please… just save her.
I don’t know who I was praying to.
I don’t even know if I believe in anything anymore.
But in that moment…
I needed someone to listen.
Because I couldn’t do anything else.
And that helplessness—
It hurt more than anything I had ever felt.
My hands wouldn’t stop trembling.
I stared at them, as if they belonged to someone else, as if I could detach myself from this moment if I just looked long enough.
What is this?
What kind of world is this?
The question echoed inside me, louder than anything else. Louder than the cries. Louder than my own heartbeat.
Is this the place I am living in?
A place where a child—
A child—
could be hurt like that?
My breath hitched, my chest rising unevenly as the thoughts refused to stop.
What did she even do wrong?
What sin could a soul that small possibly carry to deserve something so cruel?
Nothing.
She did nothing.
And yet…
She was the one lying there, fighting to breathe.
While the one who did this—
Was out there.
Walking. Breathing. Existing.
Free.
My fingers tightened against my hair, my nails pressing into my scalp as if I could ground myself, as if I could stop my mind from spiraling further.
Are they even human?
The one who did this?
Even monsters…
Even monsters hesitate.
But this—
This was beyond that.
This wasn’t anger.
This wasn’t rage.
This was something broken. Something rotten at its core.
My vision blurred as more tears slipped down.
What is this…
Oh my god…
The words felt empty the moment they left my mind.
Because what god would allow this?
What god would watch something like this happen and stay silent?
Is there even a god?
Or is it just…
Nothing?
Just silence.
Just a world that moves forward no matter how much it breaks the people inside it.
My shoulders trembled slightly as I bent forward, my breath uneven, my thoughts too heavy to hold anymore.
For the first time in a long time…
I didn’t feel angry.
I didn’t feel numb.
I felt…
Helpless.
I needed to say it out loud.
I couldn’t hold it in anymore.
It felt too heavy—like something was sitting on my chest, pressing down, making it hard to breathe, harder to think.
I pulled out my phone, my fingers moving almost desperately as I scrolled through my contacts.
Name after name passed by.
But none of them felt… right.
Who do I even call?
Who do I have… to call?
The realization hit me slowly, but it landed deep.
No one.
No one I could just call and say, “I can’t handle this.”
No one I could be weak in front of.
No one who would just… listen.
My chest tightened painfully.
I have no one to call and cry my heart out.
The hospital behind me was still drowning in chaos, cries echoing through the walls, the weight of everything pressing into me from all sides. I couldn’t stay there anymore.
I just… couldn’t.
I walked out of the hospital, the night air hitting my face, but it didn’t calm me. Nothing did.
My eyes dropped to my phone again.
And that’s when I saw it.
Vice Chairperson.
Her.
My thumb hovered over her name, trembling slightly.
Why her?
Out of everyone…
Why her?
I bit the inside of my cheek, my thoughts clashing, telling me to stop, telling me this was stupid, unnecessary, wrong even.
But before I could think any further—
My thumb moved.
The call went through.
I lifted the phone to my ear.
My heartbeat loud.
My breath uneven.
And for the first time—
I didn’t know what I was going to say.