Something feels wrong tonight. Sleep no longer comes the way it used to. I shift from one position to another, but rest avoids me, as if something within my heart knows something I don't. Tonight, something is unfolding—something that will change my entire life. I can't name it; I can only feel it: a quiet, gnawing ache, as though I'm losing something… or worse, someone.
After tossing for what felt like an eternity, I finally drifted into sleep—though I don't know for how long.
At 6:00 a.m., I woke up to the relentless ringing of my phone. Whoever was calling had better have a reason. A very good one.
But the moment the call connected and the voice on the other end broke through, it wasn't speaking—it was sobbing. Wailing like a child starved for comfort, searching for the warmth of a mother's presence, crying with the pain of a heart being torn apart piece by piece. I checked the screen twice to be sure it was him.
He was panting; I could almost feel the air he desperately needed, hear him gasping for breath as the cries of despair refused to stop. Panic crept into me. Something inside me shattered just by hearing him.
He wasn't like a raging sea—the sea has waves; it shows its turbulence, its power, its rebellion against wind, rain, or nature. He was like a calm forest's forbidden muddy river: still on the surface, hiding everything beneath, yet his mind clearer than glass, not muddy like the river. A river where emotions are buried deep, never rising, never revealing themselves… until now.
After calming down a little, he spoke in a broken voice.
"Ar-Aruu… o-our dad… h-he's n-no more…"
The ground slipped beneath my feet. I was shaken to my core—so stunned that I didn't know how to respond.
Should I wail?
Cry?
Scream?
Nothing came.
Only silent tears.
The line went quiet for a moment, and then he whispered again, even more broken than before—like it was the hardest thing to convince me of, to tell me something I never wanted to happen, something I had always dreaded hearing.
"Aaradhya… our pappa is no more. Our only anchor in this world is no more. Your pookie pappa is no more…"
He was silently crying just like me. I could feel it through the phone—him trying to suppress the sobs that were tearing through his chest.
Before he could say another word, I cut in, my voice trembling.
"Bhai, ple-please tell me you're joking. You're pranking me, right? This is one of your stupid dares with your idiot best friend—tell me! If yes, then you are successful in the dare, but ple—"
I asked hollowly, the answer I was desperately denying, words spilling out in desperate denial.
"It's not fair. You can't prank about pappa's life. You know that. I'll tell pappa how you made me cry—see, he'll give me your favourite hoodie that I always want to wear. He'll even put a lizard in your pants, just like you're scared of—"
Before I could rant any further, still desperately denying the truth, he spoke again, inhaling deeply, gathering every ounce of strength to make me understand the situation—his voice shattered, broken beyond repair, and tired, yet firm.
"Aaradhya… dad is really no more."
The truth hit me like a bucket of ice-cold water poured over me. My head went numb, as if thousands of ants were crawling through it, making my thoughts freeze. For a moment, everything froze.
Then reality came crashing down—and my worst nightmare became real.
I had lost my father.
"No—NOOO. He c-can't…"
Then, in a soft but firm voice, I said,
"He can't leave without us. He just couldn't. He couldn't leave us like that… like our mother did."
Then, in a moment of pure despair, I laughed. I actually laughed hysterically—a hollow, broken sound.
"But there's only one difference," I said through my tears. "Mom left our world permanently… while pappa left this world both physically—and from our lives."
After that, the line went quiet.
The only sounds between us were heavy breathing and quiet sobs, both of us seeking comfort in the silence we shared.
After some time, Arnav bhai spoke again. This time he had gathered himself, his voice steadier—firm in the way it always became when he decided he would protect me from the whole world.
Just like when I was his little nine-year-old sister.
"Aru, I'm coming to Australia right now to pick you up. Be ready. I know this is hard for us, but you have to be strong. Please be strong right now until I come to pick you up. My friend in Australia will be there with you to help with packing. Prepare yourself—we will go to India for our father's final rites and join the rest of our family there."
After hearing this, I was shocked. I didn't even know we had family.
"Bhai… what do you mean by the rest of the family? Don't we only have a family of three—you, me, and pappa? Who else is there?"
"Aru, we do have a family. I'll tell you everything once we are on the plane. Until then, you have to hold yourself together. You trust me, right?"
"Of course, bhai. I only have you now, and it's not even a question that I trust you."
He paused for a moment before speaking again, his voice softer this time.
"Aru, please take care of yourself. I only have you for the rest of my life, and I can't lose you now. So please… don't do anything that will hurt you—and hurt me as well."
"Take care," he said quietly before hanging up.
For a few seconds, I kept holding the phone against my ear, even after the call had ended.
The line was silent now.
But I didn't move.
My fingers slowly tightened around the phone, as if letting go would make everything real.
The room suddenly felt too quiet.
Too empty.
The same room that had always felt safe now felt unfamiliar, almost distant—like I didn't belong inside it anymore.
I looked around slowly.
The study table.
The chair pappa used to complain about because I never kept it properly.
The half-open window he would always close before leaving for work.
Everything was exactly the same.
And yet nothing was.
A lump formed in my throat as my eyes landed on the photo frame near my bed.
Pappa was smiling in it.
That warm, soft smile that always made everything feel okay.
My legs gave up before I even realized it. I slid down against the bed, clutching the phone in my hand.
"He can't be gone…" I whispered to no one.
But the silence of the room didn't argue back.
And somehow, that silence hurt more than anything.
My thoughts were abruptly broken by a notification. My brother had sent me the details about his friend who was coming over.
A few minutes later, the quiet of the house was broken by the soft ringing of the doorbell.
For a moment, I just stared at the door, my mind slow to catch up with reality. Then I remembered the message my brother had sent.
His friend.
My legs felt heavy as I stood up and walked toward the door. Each step felt strange, like I was moving through someone else's life instead of my own.
When I opened the door, a girl stood there with a small suitcase beside her. She looked around my brother's age, maybe a little older than me. Her eyes softened the moment they met mine, as if she already knew why she was here.
"You must be Aaradhya," she said gently.
I nodded, unable to find my voice.
"I'm Maya," she continued quietly. "Arnav sent me. He asked me to help you pack."
For a moment neither of us moved. Then she stepped inside slowly, her presence calm and careful, like someone entering a room where grief was still sitting in the corners.
"I'm really sorry about your father," she added softly.
Something in my chest tightened again, but this time I only nodded.
Because right now, words felt too heavy to carry.
Maya gave me some space after that. She moved quietly around the house, probably giving me time to gather myself.
I walked back into my room slowly.
For a moment, I just stood there.
This room had been my world for years. Every corner held something familiar, something that belonged to a life that suddenly felt very far away.
My gaze moved from the bookshelf to the study table, then to the bed where I had spent countless nights studying, crying, laughing, and talking to pappa about everything and nothing.
Now I had to pack it all into a suitcase.
The thought felt unreal.
I pulled my suitcase from under the bed and placed it on the mattress. The zipper sounded too loud in the quiet room.
One by one, I began folding my clothes. Simple movements. Mechanical. Almost like my body was working while my mind was somewhere else entirely.
A sweater.
A few books.
Some old notebooks.
Each item felt heavier than it should have.
My hands paused when I opened the drawer beside my bed.
Inside lay a small watch.
Pappa's watch.
The same one he used to wear almost every day before leaving for work.
For a moment, I just stared at it.
Then I slowly picked it up, holding it carefully in my palm.
It still felt warm somehow, even though I knew that was impossible.
My vision blurred as tears filled my eyes again.
"Pappa…" I whispered softly.
The room remained silent.
But the ache in my chest answered for him.
As I held pappa's watch in my hand, a faint memory surfaced.
He used to keep something else in this drawer.
Something he never let me touch when I was younger.
Frowning slightly, I moved the clothes aside and pulled the drawer out a little further.
At the very back, half-hidden beneath some old papers, was a small wooden box.
I didn't remember seeing it before.
My fingers hesitated before picking it up.
The wood was smooth but old, the edges worn as if it had been opened many times. A delicate pattern was carved on the lid—something that almost looked like a crest or a symbol, though I couldn't quite understand what it meant.
My heart began beating a little faster.
Slowly, I lifted the lid.
Inside lay a simple silver pendant attached to a thin chain.
It didn't look expensive.
But it looked… ancient.
At the center of the pendant was the same strange symbol carved into the box—two curved shapes entwined together, almost like they were meant to protect something in the middle.
I stared at it for a long moment.
I was sure I had never seen pappa wear it before.
Then why had he kept it hidden?
My fingers trembled slightly as I lifted the pendant from the box.
It felt unexpectedly cold against my skin.
And for a strange moment, I had the unsettling feeling that the symbol looked… familiar.
As if somewhere, deep in my mind, I had seen it before.
But I couldn't remember where.
Outside my room, I heard Maya moving around the house.
Reality slowly returned.
I placed the pendant carefully into my suitcase.
For some reason, it felt wrong to leave it behind.
Because whatever it was…
It had belonged to pappa.
And now it belonged to me.
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How is Chapter 1?
This is my first time writing a story, so please guide me if there are any grammatical mistakes.
Also, English is not my first language, so I hope you will understand.