Scapegoat

Chapter 1

Amisha Roy had a brief history of having humourless nightmares which made her life quite disturbing. She was sleeping on her bed, deeply engrossed in a bizarre fantasy one night, and trying to free her legs entwined in her blanket. Only she occupied her bed, but it experienced an unseen visitor at every corner ever so often through her dreams. Amisha kicked her legs, sweated in her clothes and even bawled at times. She kept crying out, “No! No!” and rolling her face in misery:.
Amisha opened the door in haste and stood by it. She was out of her breath, so she halted by the door looking at the crowd. Some creepy eyes turned to look at her by the door and perceived her differently. The ones she faced were angry, sad and even crying. She was nervous, but she tried to keep herself calm. As she moved forward to take a stand, she noticed one familiar face, Margaret, who looked incredibly happy seeing her. People were looking at her angrily which intimidated Amisha. The room was dead quiet, like a monastery. People didn’t talk, but yet their silence buzzed.
Amisha stood on one side of the dock in the courtroom and stiffened her body like an athlete, tightening her chest. She had been accused of something hideous by her own friend. She looked into her friend’s eyes where she was standing on the other dock. It was so awkwardly silent that even her own heartbeats were audible.
The Judger signaled to begin the case. The day of the verdict had finally arrived after many tiring months of the indictment trial. Most of the people were outraged. They were waiting for the judgment with curiosity and desperately praying for a life-long sentence for Amisha.
A church bell tolled loudly. Birds chirped outside the window, and the trees  eavesdropped.
The trial went on for two long, silent hours when finally, the time came. Amisha Roy anxiously held the dock and pulled herself together. The case concerning six deaths and was at the brink. It was the most dazzling case throughout the history of the country which had come to an end. At last, the appraiser banged the gavel in favour of the girl.
Amisha’s friend had a gigantic smile on her face, smirking with superiority. She walked away free. Everyone was merrily celebrating Amisha’s defeat. She wept in front of Margaret, her maid, and held her in her arms tightly. But soon she was handcuffed by the police and dragged outside the courtroom. People threw abusive words at her and cursed her with a slow death.
The media tried to reach to her and question her, but Amisha ignored it. She was accompanied by two police officers Officer Gaurav and Officer Nishant along with the Commissioner of the state Police. As Amisha was driven off in the car, she saw herself beaten to death by the curses people threw at her.
Fortunately, at that moment, she woke up from her nightmare and saved herself from such a tragedy. She jumped out of bed, went downstairs and sneaked into the kitchen. She drank some water from the fridge and sighed.
Margaret heard the noise and came to see what happened. She saw Amisha standing near the basin, scared and looking dreadful. Quickly she inquired, “What happened? Are you alright?”
Amisha took deep breaths. She replied slowly, “Yes,” and put the bottle back in the fridge.
Margaret’s eyes were filled with questions as she looked at Amisha’s sweaty clothes. “I thought you were sleeping upstairs?” Margaret asked.
“I was,” Amisha replied. “I can’t sleep well. These stupid visions I am having are troubling me.”
“I thought you were over them.”
“I don’t know. Perhaps, they are due to these hard times.”
Margaret placed her hands on Amisha’s shoulders and said, “Don’t worry. Everything will be fine.”
Amisha was less worried about her dreams and more worried about the current state of the town. She kept thinking, again and again, about the present state, but it just clouded her mind.
“Do you want something to eat?” asked Margaret.
Amisha was lost in her thoughts. She barely heard her, but Margaret wasn’t going to allow her to struggle so much with her own thoughts and hurt herself silently. She tried to pull her out of her fantasies.
“Amisha!” she exclaimed.
Amisha became conscious. Blankly, she asked, “What?”
“I said, ‘Do you want something to eat?’” Margaret repeated.
“No, I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine.”
Amisha didn’t reply to that. Trying to divert the conversation, she remarked, “I would prefer a green apple and a glass of fruit juice for dinner.”
Margaret knew what Amisha was doing, but she didn’t say it out loud.
“Fine,” Margaret replied with a frown.