The taxi pulled up to Yash's house, and he practically ran inside. His parents were waiting for him in the living room. He didn't say a word; he just threw himself into their arms and began to sob uncontrollably. "Papa... Mumma... Ram is gone," he choked out between gasps. His parents held him tight; their own faces filled with sadness. "We know, son," his father whispered. "We heard the news this evening."
His parents consoled him throughout the long, dark night. Yash stayed close to his father, seeking the only comfort he had left, but sleep brought no peace. Tears leaked from his eyes even in his restlessness. His mind was a storm of memories—flashes of their friendship, followed by a voice that cut like a knife: "You killed Dheeru and Vini." Then, a dark shadow loomed over him in the dream, whispering with cold, dead lips: "You killed me, too, Yash. You're a murderer."
Yash bolted upright, his breath coming in sharp, shallow gasps as he opened his eyes. It was already morning, the light filtering through the room feeling too bright for his heavy heart. He scrambled downstairs, still disoriented, to find his mother preparing breakfast in the kitchen. His father sat at the table, scrolling through his phone with a grim expression. "It's like God doesn't want children to live anymore," his father muttered, not even looking up.
His father looked over at his mother. "Do you know a girl named Stuti? From the school area?"
"No," his mother replied, pausing at the stove. "Why? What happened to her?"
His father stared at the screen, his voice low. "She took her own life yesterday."
Yash stood there, the world suddenly going silent. His ears began to ring, and before his parents could even look up, he was out the door, running in a blind, desperate panic.
"Yash, stop!" his father roared, lunging to grab his arm, but Yash was too fast. He ran as if the devil himself were at his heels. His parents tried to follow, but they couldn't keep up with the raw adrenaline of his panic. Within seconds, he had turned a corner and evaporated into the maze of the city, gone before they could even call his name again.
It was me. I killed them. I'm the murderer. The thought echoed in his mind, a relentless drumbeat as tears blurred his vision. He sprinted toward the school district, his lungs burning, until he skidded to a halt. There, a sea of mourners filled the street, carrying a small figure draped in white. His heart stopped. A cold, black shadow swallowed his vision, and the world began to tilt beneath his feet.
Standing a mile away, Yash felt like a ghost watching his own funeral. The air was filled with the echoes of "forever and ever," a promise that now felt like a curse. Stuti's voice rang in his ears— "You're my only friend"—followed by Himari calling him her hero. Finally, his own voice surfaced, a cruel reminder of the vow he had failed to keep: "I will stay with you. I will protect you." His heart shattered under the pressure of what could have been.
He stood there, the world spinning around him. "It should end with me," he thought, his heart a hollow shell. The echoes of his friends' voices— "Forever and ever"—swirled in his mind like a ghostly choir. He stepped toward the road and opened his arms wide, staring at the massive truck roaring toward him at full speed. One final question burned in his mind: "Which is worse? To live like a monster, or to die like one?"
In those final seconds, the faces of Dheeru, Vini, Ram, and Stuti appeared before him, their eyes wide and imploring as if they were screaming for him to stop. But Yash only looked back at them and smiled—a soft, weary expression of peace. Then, the truck struck him with a deafening roar, and the world shattered into a thousand pieces of light.