The Devils Game

I hate my life. I find myself fantasizing about a stranger strolling up and offering to trade lives with me, a deal I'd gladly make. It's not that I'm ungrateful for my family.Don't get me wrong, my family means everything to me. I'd lay down my life for them in a heartbeat. But sometimes I wonder about myself - what do I actually want? Who am I outside of my familial duties? What does my future hold?I'm just a girl from India who pours every last drop of blood, sweat, and tears into keeping her loved ones safe. At 22 years old, I still live with my parents and three brothers. We're not well-off, and it's a daily battle just to put a roof over our heads.I'm the second oldest after my brother Arnav, who's 27. Then there's my second youngest brother Rodas, who's 16, and the baby of the family, little Viraj, who's just 10.It's my daily duty to do whatever it takes to ensure their safety, even if that means sacrificing my own happiness. But still, the thought of a chance to do more,

"You don't listen, do you?" As I sink into the plush couch, I intertwine my fingers and lean forward, my restless ear picking up the slow tick of the clock amidst the oppressive stillness. With a quiet chuckle, I lift my frosty gaze to hers, observing the confusion dancing in her vivid blue eyes, yet commending her for keeping her inscrutable poker face intact. In a measured tone, I effortlessly lace my words with a biting sarcasm, "You just ask the same questions every fucking week.""How's your relationship with your brother?" "How's your job?" My words hung in the air like heavy curtains. I leaned back, studying the ceiling with a deep sigh. My fingers danced across my rough stubble as I considered my sentence with careful precision. "Are you having any negative thoughts...?" I trailed off and paused, taking a moment to soak in the weight of my confession. "All I have are negative thoughts."There are moments when existence feels like a draining vortex, suffocating my soul and

My steps become brisk, heart pounding in my chest like a sledgehammer as I catch a glimpse of a sinister shadow tailing me. I shove my trembling hands into my pockets, shuddering as I quicken my pace. I dash leftwards, casting a swift glance over my shoulder to meet the murky abyss, only to find my pursuer vanished into thin air.Pausing for a moment, I draw in a deep breath to quell my racing heart. "It's just your imagination, Tatiana," I whisper confidently, mustering enough courage to suppress the nervousness. Spotting the glowing replica of the pub signage, I scamper towards it, the awareness of being late for my night duty sending shivers down my spine, one final time.Stepping into the pub, my ears are blasted by raucous music and the smell of spilled beer. The roars of drunken men drowning out the giggles of women twerking on them, and the sight of other men eyeing up their next victim. As I move past the mayhem, I catch the disapproving eye of Mr. Bhatt, the bane of my existe

“Did your uncles forget to teach you manners?” I state.Irena's expression towards me was filled with complete disdain, yet no indication of fear was evident. Why is she remaining silent? Is she incapable of hearing anything? Does her mind possess any normality at all? At that moment, I wrapped my hand around her neck like a snake, waiting for her to cry out in terror. Her eyes were so alive, glistening with sparkling tears as she pleaded with me, begging me not to take her life. But I needed to hear her voice."Speak to me," I demanded, clenching my fingers tighter around her delicate throat. Her skin was soft, like sweet caramel under my grasp. Her breath came in quick, shallow gasps as she fought against my hold. I studied her face as I cut off her air supply. Fear was etched into her features, her lips parted in a desperate plea for oxygen. Her eyes were wide, staring into mine as she silently begged for a reprieve.There it is. The fear I was looking for. All she needed wa

Two months flew by so quickly. It was just endless tears, screaming and sleepless nights as I counted the days for my wedding day. Today is the day. August 22nd. The last time I heard from Saint was two months ago when he nearly suffocated me to death. After that he disappeared like a ghost. I have not heard from him. Seen him. Or the mentions of his name from me or anyone else in the house. It was as if it’s forbidden to say his name without his presence. I stand in front of the mirror, staring into the eyes of a lost girl. The dress I wore was carefully picked out by Ian, the elusive middle Nowak brother. With his busy work schedule, it's rare to see him, so when he does make an appearance, it's always a special occasion. And this dress is nothing short of special. As I slip into the stretchy white fabric, I'm struck by how well it hugs my curves. The silhouette is divine, fitted through the bodice before flaring out in a flattering triangular pattern at the waist. The off-the