Abhaya Bhairavi #Wattys2020

Chapter One

* Bhairavi was running as fast as she could, her feet pounding on the marble floor as she ran across the rows of locked doors and finally found the staircase.

At the bottom of the staircase was the door to freedom. She starts rushing down the stairs but the more she runs towards the bottom the farther she gets away from it. Tears of exhaustion and exasperation prick her eyes as she pushes herself to the limit, she has to escape before it catches up, but she can already taste her defeat when she feels her nape prickle with awareness.

What she is running from is right behind her, effortlessly dangerous, not even attempting to stop her physically. She could smell the blood on it, her parents' blood, and she tries not to be distracted by it but then she feels the cold, cold hand caress her shoulder. "No matter how hard you try to run away, you will always find me, for I am your destiny." She slowly turns around, frozen by her fear, her throat choked with anguish, to face the monster...*

Beep beep beep beep.

Bhairavi jumped up with a start and shut the alarm, cursing. She had been having the same nightmare for a month now. She was almost scared to go to sleep, for each time she closed her eyes, she could smell the blood and feel the cold clasp of the monster, but she never saw it's face. She always woke up before she faced it. But her mind was beyond exhausted from the lack of proper sleep. And Namma knew it.

Namma was what she called her maternal grandmother, the one she came to stay with after her parents....died. Sighing, Bhairavi got up from bed for a shower, for she knew she would have to tell Namma about it before going to college. Imagining the disappointment on Namma's face was painful, for she took her for her speech sessions thrice a week and got her all the meds prescribed for her no matter how expensive, but nothing seemed to work.

The hot shower seemed to unknot some of her muscles as she felt better while dressing up. However, thinking about facing Namma and telling her the truth made her gloomy again. Staring at herself in the mirror, Bhairavi wondered how much she had changed in the last month. While her parents were alive, she was the pretty social butterfly who had friends, a boyfriend, a bright future. After they died on that night, she did not recognize herself anymore. She did not dress in bright colors, nor did she hang out with her friends. She broke off her relationship and her grades worsened.

The only thing that remained constant was her appearance. Her pristine daily makeup, her high heels, her headphones were unaltered, for they were parts of her armor. But her hair....she had chopped off her beautiful, long hair. Lightly touching her head, where her unevenly cut hair stood up in unruly clusters, Bhairavi choked down the lump in her throat and headed for the kitchen. There was no time for emotions and self pity. She had to survive, and maintain her sanity.

Namma smiled widely at her, taking her by surprise. Usually she smiled softly and wished her good morning, with careful eyes, looking for signs of breakdown or trauma or anger. Dazed, Bhairavi sat on a chair, not knowing how to react to such a happy emotion when she felt barren on the inside. Namma's smile waned a little, before asking, "How did you sleep?". The doctors had told her to ask everything in a neutral manner to not trigger Bhairavi’s anger.

Looking at her anxious, slightly eager face, Bhairavi felt a little guilty before signing, 'Slept fine'.

Her guilt increased when Namma's eyes showed relief and she hugged her, "I am glad, baccha. It seems Dr. Bagchi's meds are working. How do you feel?"

Bhairavi signed, 'feel fine', then added, 'getting late'.

"Yes of course, wait, I have something for you."