I was sleeping the way only exhaustion allows you to sleep—deep, careless, and completely unaware of the world.
My phone was forgotten somewhere on the bedside table, notifications piling up without my consent. The curtains were half-drawn, letting in just enough early morning light to blur the edges of my room. The fan hummed steadily above me, and my blanket was wrapped around me like a shield against adulthood.
For once, nothing needed me.
No responsibilities. No future anxiety. No unanswered texts. Just me, my blanket pulled up to my chin, my body curled comfortably, breathing slow and peaceful—as if life had finally decided to leave me alone for a few hours.
That's when my mind drifted.
Gently. Willingly. Like it wanted to be somewhere else.
The dream was perfect.
Suspiciously perfect.
I was standing on a beach that felt unreal in the best possible way. The sand beneath my feet was warm and smooth, untouched, like the ocean itself had prepared it just for me. Fairy lights were wrapped around wooden poles, glowing gently, casting everything in a golden haze. The sea shimmered under the moonlight, waves moving slowly, like they had all the time in the world.
A horse stood nearby.
White. Majestic. Slightly dramatic—clearly aware it was part of something romantic.
And then there was him.
AARON BLACKFORD. Obviously.
Tall, calm, impossibly attractive in that effortless way only imaginary men manage to be. The kind who smiled like he already understood me, like he didn't need explanations or disclaimers. He reached out his hand, steady and warm, as if beaches and horses and dreamy dates were normal parts of my life.
He helped me onto the horse, and I didn't question it.
Why would I?
We rode along the shoreline, the wind weaving itself through my hair, my dress flowing behind me like the universe had finally decided to make me its favorite. Everything felt right—balanced, peaceful, unreal in the way happiness sometimes is.
I was happy.
I was calm.
I was emotionally fulfilled.
And that should have been my first warning.
That's when my phone started screaming.
Not vibrating. Not gently ringing like a respectful device.
It was SCREAMING—loud, violent, personal.
I groaned, burying my face deeper into the pillow, reaching out blindly like my life depended on silencing the sound. In one brutal moment, the horse disappeared. The beach dissolved. The fictional man—gone. My peaceful dreamland was ripped apart without mercy.
"WHOEVER THIS IS," I yelled the second I picked up the call, my voice thick with sleep and betrayal, "THIS BETTER BE IMPORTANT BECAUSE I WAS BUSY DREAMING, BITCH."
There was a pause.
A dangerous one.
Then, from the other side, calm to the point of being criminal—
"Well hello to you too."
I froze.
That voice.
My eyes flew open as reality slapped me awake, my heart suddenly alert. "Kiara?" I croaked, sitting up.
"Yes," she replied pleasantly, like she hadn't just committed emotional violence. "Good morning, sunshine."
"It is NOT sunshine," I snapped, rubbing my face. "It's trauma o'clock. Why are you alive this early?"
She laughed softly, the kind of laugh that always made chaos sound manageable. "Because I moved."
I blinked, my brain buffering like a broken laptop. "Moved... where?"
"Ahmedabad."
Silence.
I stared at the wall in front of me, my thoughts completely frozen. "You—what?"
"I shifted yesterday," she continued casually, as if she was telling me she bought groceries. "Job-related. I'm staying in a flat with one of my college friends. Vaani Bhatt. You remember I mentioned her?"
My heart did something strange—small but loud. "WAIT," I said, sitting up straighter. "YOU SHIFTED CITIES AND THIS IS HOW I FIND OUT?"
"I literally just told you."
"That is NOT the point," I said dramatically. "You dropped a life bomb on me while I was emotionally invested in a horse."
She laughed again, unfazed. "Listen," she said, her voice softening. "I was thinking... if you want, you could come stay with me for a while."
Something inside me sparked.
"Ahmedabad?" I repeated slowly. "Like... new city Ahmedabad?"
"Yes," she said. "You've been wanting a change. And it might help you figure things out."
My heart started racing.
New city.
New space.
Away from everything familiar.
"WAIT," I said suddenly, fully awake now. "LIKE... ACTUALLY STAY WITH YOU?"
"Yes," she replied. "Vaani's chill. The flat has space. And you wouldn't be alone."
Excitement bubbled up so fast it almost hurt. I clutched the blanket, grinning like a child who'd just been promised candy. "KIARA," I breathed. "KIARA THIS IS A SIGN. THIS IS THE UNIVERSE TALKING TO ME DIRECTLY."
She chuckled. "You'd have to talk to your family."
"I WILL," I said instantly. "I WILL CONVINCE THEM. I WILL CRY IF I HAVE TO."
"That was implied," she teased gently.
I nodded to myself, already planning emotional warfare. "I'll talk to them and tell you, okay?"
"Okay," she said softly. "Take care. Call me later."
The call ended.
I stared at my phone, my heart racing, my sleep completely forgotten.
My dream was gone—but somehow, something much bigger had just begun.
I stared at my phone for a full ten seconds.
Then I squealed.
I rolled off my bed dramatically, pacing the room like a puppy who'd just been told it was going to the park. A new city. Kiara. Independence. Chaos. Growth. Drama.
I was in.
By afternoon, hunger didn't arrive—it attacked. Like a wild animal. Like it had personal beef with me.
I didn't think. I didn't plan. I simply grabbed my phone and called Nidhi.
"I'm downstairs," I declared the second she picked up. "GET DOWN. WE ARE EATING."
There was a pause. "Misha—"
"UNDER YOUR BUILDING. MOVE YOUR LEGS. THIS IS NOT A DRILL."
"…Where are we going?"
"FOOD," I said. "THE PLACE WITH FOOD. ALL OF THEM."
She hung up. No questions. No resistance. A real friend.
Five minutes later, she appeared like a summoned demon—hair half-tied, bag slung wrong, slippers definitely not matching her outfit. Her eyes were already glowing with menace. "OKAY. WHERE ARE WE DESTROYING OUR STOMACHS."
"We'll decide while walking," I said. "Life is spontaneous."
"It's called being unprepared."
"Same thing."
We ended up ordering like we were feeding a football team. Fries. Burgers. Momos. Something fried. Something extra fried. Drinks we didn't need. Dessert we absolutely didn't need but ordered anyway out of spite.
We ate like we had survived a famine. Fries disappeared mid-sentence. Sauce was everywhere. At one point, Nidhi stole food off my plate and I was too busy chewing to fight her.
Halfway through dessert—me with chocolate smeared dangerously close to my chin—I leaned forward, eyes shining."So… I talked to Kiara."
Nidhi froze. Spoon halfway to mouth. "Okay…?"
"She shifted to Ahmedabad."
Her spoon clattered dramatically onto the table. "WHAT."
"And," I added, popping another bite like I wasn't about to ruin her life, "she asked if I wanted to come stay with her."
Silence.
Actual, horrifying silence.
Nidhi slowly leaned back, squinting at me like I'd just said I was joining a cult. "You?"
"Yes."
"You," she repeated, pointing the spoon at me like a weapon.
"Yes."
"You—Misha—who cries when—"
"I DO NOT—"
"—WHEN YOUR CHOCOLATE FALLS."
"That was grief."
"You cried when a STRAY DOG looked at you."
"He was a SHE a BITCH."
"You cried when your phone battery died at 8%."
"THAT WAS A CRISIS."
"And now," she said, voice shaking from laughter, "NOW YOU'RE LEAVING HOME?"
"I AM EVOLVING," I snapped. "THIS IS CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT."
She lost it.
Like fully lost it.
Laughing, choking, slapping the table, tears streaming, strangers turning to look at us lost it. "MISHA YOU WON'T EVEN ORDER FOOD WITHOUT ASKING YOUR MOM—"
"I CAN LEARN."
"YOU SLEEP WITH THE LIGHT ON—"
"OPTIONAL."
"YOU PANIC IF YOUR CLOTHES AREN'T FOLDED—"
"STRUCTURE IS IMPORTANT."
I crossed my arms, deeply offended and mildly hurt. "STOP LAUGHING."
She tried. She really did. Failed instantly. "I'm sorry," she wheezed, "I just—Ahmedabad? YOU? ALONE? You'll call home every two minutes."
"I WILL NOT."
"You'll forget to eat."
"I AM LITERALLY EATING RIGHT NOW."
"You'll get homesick in three days."
"I'm already homesick and I'm STILL HERE."
That shut her up.
She looked at me properly then. Really looked. The laughter softened, settling into something warmer. "You're serious," she said.
"I am," I muttered. "I think… I need it."
She smiled, shaking her head. "Okay," she said. "Main character arc. I see you. Slightly terrified, but I see you."
The rest of the day exploded into chaos again—movie scenes we talked over, terrible selfies, laughing at absolutely nothing, stealing each other's drinks, revisiting memories like idiots. But by evening, when the sky darkened and the noise faded a little, reality crept back in.
And for the first time, it didn't scare me.
It felt like the beginning of something unhinged, terrifying… and very, very mine.
Night came too fast.
Too quiet.Too aware.
I sat in the living room with my family, knees bouncing, heart doing somersaults like it already knew I was about to emotionally combust. The TV was on, some random serial nobody was actually watching, and the ceiling fan hummed like it was mocking my anxiety.
This was it.The announcement.The point of no return.
"I want to go to Ahmedabad," I blurted out.
Silence.
Not the calm kind. The dangerous kind. The kind where even the fan seemed to pause.
My mother slowly turned toward me. Slowly. Like a villain in a movie. "What did you just say?"
"I want to go to Ahmedabad," I repeated, voice louder, braver, dumber.
"Why?" she asked.
"KIARA IS THERE."
She blinked. "That is not a reason."
"It is a very strong reason."
"No, it's not."
"I WANT TO LEARN," I said, panicking slightly.
"Learn what?" my mother shot back.
"LIFE."
My father sighed deeply, the kind of sigh that carried generations of disappointment. "How long?"
"I DON'T KNOW."
My mother folded her arms. That was it. The final boss stance. "No."
And just like that—The drama began.
I gasped dramatically. "NO?? You can't just say NO like that."
"Yes, I can."
My eyes burned instantly. "You never let me do anything. I am suffocating. I am emotionally trapped."
"You went to the mall yesterday."
"THAT WAS NOT FREEDOM."
I stood up, hands flying everywhere. "I need space. I need growth. I need to find myself."
"You can find yourself in your room," my mother said flatly.
That was my breaking point.
I cried.
Not soft crying.Full-blown, dramatic, Bollywood-level crying.
"I AM TWENTY-SOMETHING AND STILL ASKING PERMISSION TO BREATHE," I sobbed, wiping my nose aggressively. "DO YOU WANT ME TO BE DEPENDENT FOREVER?"
My father rubbed his temples. "Why Ahmedabad?"
"Because Kiara is there," I sniffed. "And she's working. And living alone. And being RESPONSIBLE."
My mother scoffed. "That girl doesn't even sleep on time."
"That is called ADULT LIFE."
I grabbed my phone with shaking hands. "Fine. You don't believe me? I'll call Kiara."
Before anyone could stop me, I put her on speaker.
She picked up immediately. "MISHA?? Why are you crying—"
"MUMMY SAID NO," I wailed.
There was a pause. Then Kiara's voice went calm, composed, deadly supportive. "Aunty," she said politely, "I promise I'll take care of her."
My mother laughed. "You?"
"Yes," Kiara said confidently. "I'll make sure she eats. She'll be safe. And it's just for a while."
"I WILL GROW," I added loudly. "I WILL CHANGE. I WILL EVOLVE."
"You said that when you wanted a new phone," my father muttered.
"That TIME WAS DIFFERENT."
Kiara jumped in smoothly. "Uncle, this will be good for her. New city, new routine. She needs exposure."
My mother narrowed her eyes. "You can't even sleep without your specific blanket."
"I HAVE BUILT EMOTIONAL RESILIENCE," I said confidently, lying through my soul.
"She forgets to eat when she's upset," my father added.
"I WILL SET ALARMS," I snapped. "MULTIPLE."
"She panics if the doorbell rings unexpectedly," my mother continued.
"That's called being ALERT."
My mother rubbed her temples. "You get scared of lizards."
"I WILL SCREAM AND RUN LIKE A NORMAL HUMAN."
"You need three alarms to wake up."
"I AM A NIGHTMARE TO ALARMS NOW."
My mother sighed. "You won't last a week."
I crossed my arms. "WATCH ME LAST. OUT OF SPITE."
My mother turned to Kiara on speaker. "You're sure you can handle her?"
Kiara didn't even hesitate. "Aunty, I am emotionally prepared."
I gasped. "WOW. BETRAYAL."
The arguments went on. And on. And ON.
I begged.I promised.I swore.I cried some more for emotional emphasis.
At one point, I was sitting on the floor dramatically, head in my hands, like a rejected poet.
My mother looked at me. "Why do you want to go so badly?"
And suddenly… I cracked.
"I don't know," I said, voice wobbling. "I just… I need to feel like I can do something on my own. Just once."
Silence.
Even my chaos took a respectful pause.
Kiara spoke softly through the phone. "Aunty, I'll take care of her. I promise."
My mother stared at me for a long moment, then sighed. "You sure?"
I burst into tears instantly. "I WILL MAKE YOU PROUD."
"Stop crying," she warned.
"I AM CRYING PRODUCTIVELY."
Finally—after HOURS—my father spoke. "One month."
I froze. "What?"
"One month," he repeated. "That's it."
My tears stopped instantly.
"One… month?" I asked slowly.
"Yes."
I jumped up. "DONE. AGREED. FINAL."
My mother pointed a finger at me. "One month. And if anything goes wrong—"
"I WILL COME BACK IMMEDIATELY," I said, already mentally gone.
That night, I slept smiling.
Packing day arrived like a slap.
I stood in my room, suitcase open, surrounded by chaos—clothes, books, chargers, emotional baggage. Then my eyes landed on my teddy bears.
I sat down in front of them.
"All of you can't come," I whispered solemnly. "We have weight limits."
My mother yelled from the other room. "STOP BEING A CHILD AND PACK."
"I AM PACKING MY EMOTIONS," I yelled back.
I packed anyway. Slowly. Carefully. Dramatically.
When I finally zipped my bag and stood there, room suddenly looking unfamiliar, something twisted in my chest.
I didn't know what waited ahead.
I didn't know who I'd become.
But I knew one thing.
This phase—It wasn't going to be quiet.Or neat.Or sensible.
It was going to be loud.Messy.Chaotic.
And completely, undeniably mine.