Ananya lay on her bed, eyes wide open, staring at the faint outline of the ceiling. Sleep didn't come easily—not for her. It never had.
She pulled the blanket closer, the silence around her amplifying the noise inside her mind. Her thoughts spiraled back—back to the life she had fought through alone.
No parents. No comfort. Just her.
Balancing 11th standard studies while working a part-time job had forced her to grow up quickly. She had managed—barely. Every day had been a battle, every night a test. And though the world saw her as composed and capable, no one saw the part of her that had long since forgotten what safety felt like.
But the worst part had always been the nights.
The dreams.
Dark. Twisted. Terrifying.
They'd haunted her for as long as she could remember. Some nights she'd wake up drenched in sweat, heart pounding. Other nights, she'd fear closing her eyes at all. And on those mornings, even walking to her job had felt like walking through fog—her mind still trapped somewhere in those visions.
But then… something changed.
Her thoughts shifted, heart slowing, as she remembered.
Meher.
Nidhi.
It was after they came into her life that things began to feel… different.
She hadn't noticed it right away. But now, lying here, eyes heavy with the weight of memory, she realized—
the nightmares had stopped.
Not entirely. But enough.
Enough for her to breathe again.
She remembered the first time she met Meher, back in school. She had been sleep-deprived, barely holding herself together, when Meher had approached her. Quiet, steady, with a gaze that didn't judge—just understood.
And Nidhi had been a whirlwind. Loud, dramatic, impossible to ignore. Her laughter had broken through Ananya's shell like sunlight cracking open clouds.
Together, they created a space where Ananya didn't have to fight so hard to stay afloat. A space where she wasn't just surviving—but beginning, slowly, to live.
As that realization settled over her, a small breath escaped her lips. Her body softened.
The dreams might come back. The questions about her past still lingered. But tonight… tonight she felt held. Not by answers.
By connection.
And for the first time in a long time, Ananya drifted into sleep without fear.
The room had gone still.
Moonlight slipped quietly through the half-closed curtains, casting soft silver across the floor. The hush of the night settled around them—but not all were asleep.
Meher lay awake, eyes open just enough to see Ananya's outline under the blanket.
Her gaze lingered.
There was something almost delicate in the way Ananya lay now—like a moment suspended in time, untouched by the usual weight she carried in her eyes. Meher watched in silence, a thoughtful look in her own.
One hand rested near the book she had placed beside her pillow. Her fingers brushed its edge absentmindedly.
She whispered into the dark, barely audible, "Sleep well… for now."
Across the room, Nidhi shifted quietly. She rolled onto her side, her back to the others, and checked her watch.
12:11 AM.
Her playful energy from earlier was gone.
In its place, a quiet sadness.
She stared at the glowing numbers like they meant something only she could understand. Then slowly brought the watch to her chest and closed her eyes.
But the expression she wore said more than words ever could.
Longing. Waiting.
A silence filled the room—not empty, but thick with unspoken thoughts, quiet questions, and secrets they hadn't dared to voice yet.
Then Meher slowly turned to her side and closed her eyes, her final breath before sleep carrying a hushed wish:
"Please… not yet."