Heartbreak and Happiness

I was thirsty.

Not just for water, but for breath, for relief, for some small sign that this nightmare would end. The canteen had fallen into a heavy silence—broken only by the shallow breaths of those watching, waiting. Hatred burned in the eyes of some. Others wore masks of fear, or worse—amusement. I sat there tied to that chair, my body aching, but my spirit holding on to one final thread of hope.

And then… it happened.

A sudden sound pierced through the silence.

Footsteps.

Fast. Sharp. Determined.

Someone was running.

It echoed through the canteen like thunder, and in that single moment, something shifted. You could feel it in the air—the energy changed. Everyone turned. Hearts skipped. Even Anant—calm and cruel until now—stood up slowly from his chair, alert.

A bitter smile curved on his face.

"Come on, Nikhil," he said loudly, mocking the moment. "I've been waiting just for you."

I turned toward the sound, my breath caught in my throat.

And then I saw him.

Nikhil.

Storming into the canteen like a force of nature. But it wasn't just his presence that shocked everyone—it was his face.

His eyes were filled with tears—raw, honest, uncontrolled—but they weren't tears of weakness. They were tears of rage.

His eyes were bloodshot, burning with fury. Every muscle in his body was tense, trembling with emotion. It was like watching a volcano moments before eruption.

Before anyone could speak, he sprinted forward.

And exploded.

He didn't wait.

He didn't talk.

With a single move, he spread his arms and took down five or six seniors standing near Anant—throwing them to the ground like they were nothing but obstacles in his way.

Gasps filled the canteen.

The silence shattered.

Nikhil then turned to Ruchika—his gaze dark, unflinching. He walked over, snatched her phone from her hand before she could even react…

And snapped it in half.

Right in front of everyone.

Two clean pieces of plastic and glass dropped to the floor like justice finally served.

Then he turned to Ruhi—his voice low, steady, powerful.

"Fight, little sister."

Ruhi's eyes widened in realization as she looked down at the shattered phone.

The photo was gone.

The threat was gone.

And in the very next second, she smiled.

A smile that said freedom.

Before Ruchika could even think of another move, Ruhi launched forward and delivered a solid punch right to her nose, making her stumble back, crying out in shock and pain.

And just like that…

The real fight began.

Nikhil didn't wait for anyone's permission. He charged into Anant's group, fists flying, fury unleashed. But he wasn't alone.

Several boys had followed him in—his close friends, loyal and just as fired up. They jumped into the chaos, turning the canteen into a full-blown war zone. Punches, shouts, bodies falling—it was a riot.

But in the middle of all this madness, Nikhil never lost sight of me.

He fought his way to the chair I was tied to, his breath heavy, his knuckles bruised—and without a word, he knelt beside me and began untying the ropes with trembling hands.

Our eyes met.

He didn't speak, but in that single glance… I saw everything.

Guilt. Pain. Anger. And something deeper… something that broke me.

When the ropes finally came off, my body collapsed forward, weak and barely able to move. But before I could hit the ground, he caught me—scooping me up into his arms like I weighed nothing.

I didn't expect that.

No drama. No hesitation.

He just… picked me up.

As if it was the only thing that mattered.

Simmi and Ruhi rushed to his side, protecting us as Nikhil carried me out of the chaos. We slipped out of the canteen through the side corridor, the sounds of the fight still echoing behind us like distant thunder.

We didn't stop until we reached the medical room.

Nikhil pushed the door open, gently placed me on the hospital bed, and called out for the nurse.

When he made sure I was safe…

He turned around.

Without a word. Without a pause.

And walked back out.

Back into the fire.

Because whatever this was—this fight, this war—he hadn't finished it yet.

And as I lay there, blood still on my shirt, pain crawling through every nerve, I stared at the door he had disappeared through…

And wondered:

Was this the same Nikhil I had been warned about?

The same boy I was told to fear?

Or was this someone else?

Someone who had just risked everything…

To save me.

The war may have ended in the canteen, but the storm was far from over.

My body was still aching—bruised, weak, and exhausted—yet my ears remained alert, straining to catch every word spoken outside the medical room. I lay on the stiff white bed, the ceiling above me spinning slightly, the cold touch of antiseptic burning softly across my cuts.

Outside the door, the world hadn't gone quiet… it had grown intense.

Voices murmured—urgent, emotional.

And then I heard Ruhi.

Her voice was sharp, decisive, and louder than the others.

"Enough is enough!" she said, fury breaking through every syllable. "We've let them go too far, too many times. This ends now."

Her tone wasn't just angry—it was tired of being angry.

There was a kind of finality in her words. The sound of someone who had protected and endured too much—and was now ready to fight for something bigger than fists and bruises.

She turned to Simmi, who stood nearby, silent and visibly shaken.

"Simmi," Ruhi said more gently now, "call your parents. Tell them everything. Tell them what happened here today. And ask them to go straight to the principal's office and file a formal complaint."

Simmi hesitated, her hands trembling as she held her phone tightly in her grasp.

"Ruhi…" she whispered, "Are you sure?"

Ruhi didn't blink.

"We didn't come to this college, pay all this money, work this hard—just to be beaten, threatened, and humiliated. We didn't walk into these classrooms to live in fear or to be blamed for the violence done to us. No, Simmi. Not anymore."

That moment felt like a turning point.

A moment where fear finally gave way to resolve.

Simmi's fingers shook as she tapped her screen, but her eyes slowly grew steadier. She put the phone to her ear and, in a voice heavy with emotion, she told her parents everything—every single detail.

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she spoke, but she didn't stop. She was done hiding. Done pretending. Done covering up scars that weren't hers to carry.

I watched her through the half-open door of the medical room as she turned from a frightened girl into someone standing up for herself—and for me.

Meanwhile, the college doctor was still checking my wounds. He moved quickly, professionally, but there was something in his eyes—something that told me he wasn't used to seeing students come in like this. He kept glancing toward the door, concern pulling at his features.

After a few more minutes, he walked out into the hallway and gently pulled Simmi and Ruhi aside.

I couldn't hear what he was saying—his voice was low, careful—but I could see the way their expressions shifted. From surprise… to worry… to something heavier. Something serious.

Simmi pressed her hand to her mouth.

Ruhi's brows furrowed.

Whatever the doctor had just told them—it wasn't good.

I could feel my own heartbeat growing louder, faster. I wanted to get up, to go ask what was wrong, but my legs still felt like lead. All I could do was lie there… and wait.

That's when Nikhil appeared again.

He walked in quietly—his face still flushed with leftover rage, but his eyes had softened. There was pain in them. Guilt too.

He didn't look at me right away. He went straight to Simmi, leaned down, and whispered something in her ear.

Whatever he said made her nod immediately, and Ruhi didn't wait either. She gently grabbed Simmi's hand and began walking away with her—leaving Nikhil and me behind in that quiet, sterile room.

The door clicked shut.

And suddenly, the silence felt louder than ever.

I stared at the door they had just walked through…

And I couldn't help but wonder:

What had the doctor said?

Why did Simmi look like she had seen a ghost?

And why… was Nikhil still not meeting my eyes?

Something had changed.

And deep in my gut, I knew… this wasn't the end of the war.

It was only the beginning.

To be continue....