Ram laughed again, the sound cracking entirely through his tears.
“Yeah.
I am.”
His fingers tightened carefully around her hand.
It felt entirely cold.
“I’ll bring my parents to the meeting today, Shweta.
I’ll tell them everything.
You don’t have to worry about it anymore.
I’ll fix it.”
Shweta didn’t answer him.
“Okay?”
Her eyes were already beginning to close.
“Shweta?”
Nothing changed.
“Hey.” He touched her shoulder gently.
“Open your eyes.
Come on.”
She didn’t respond.
“Shweta.” His voice grew weaker, turning into a whisper.
“Come on, wake up.”
He checked her wrist, pressing his fingers against the skin, though he wasn’t even sure what a normal pulse was supposed to feel like.
His fingertips trembled against her flesh.
Nothing.
Not a single thud.
“No.” Ram shook his head, pulling his hand back.
“No, no, she’s going to be okay.
The ambulance will be here.”
He looked toward the empty crossroads.
“Where’s the ambulance?”
Nobody answered him.
The street was empty.
He looked back down at her pale, blood-stained face.
“This isn’t happening.” His voice dropped to a hollow whisper.
“I was just running.”
He stared at the limp shape of her hand.
“I was just running away from you.”
His chest tightened until he couldn’t draw a breath, a physical pressure expanding beneath his ribs.
“If I had just stopped walking…” He couldn’t finish the sentence, but the thought came anyway, heavy and absolute: She wouldn’t be lying here.
Ram lowered his head until his forehead touched the dirt.
“This is my fault.”
A single tear fell onto the back of Shweta’s cold hand.
“I did this.”
The street suddenly seemed incredibly quiet.
Ram looked up, wiping his eyes with a dirty palm.
The ambient traffic noise from the main road had faded away.
Not gradually, either.
It was simply…
gone.
He could still see the cycle-rickshaws and stationary cars farther down the avenue, but he couldn’t hear them.
Even the morning wind through the neem tree had completely stopped.
Ram frowned, his heart hammering against his ribs.
“What…?”
The edge of the concrete pavement directly beneath his hand shifted.
He pulled his arm back in terror.
The road had cracked.
A thin, dark line ran straight through the asphalt, then another appeared right beside it, splitting the stone without a sound.
Ram stared, his breath catching.
The brick buildings on either side of the lane seemed to bend inward like rubber.
Only slightly.
He blinked hard, and they were normal again.
Then the white van down the street flickered.
For an instant, it looked stretched out, as though reality had pulled it from both ends like taffy.
Ram pushed himself backward on his hands.
“What is happening?”
The very air around his torso trembled, rippling like the heat above a tar road in mid-July.
The cracks in the asphalt spread farther, splitting the dirt shoulder.
He looked down at his own hands.
They were shaking violently, but something else was happening too—the space directly around his fingers seemed to distort, blurring the lines of his skin.
Ram couldn’t understand the physics of what he was seeing.
He looked back at Shweta’s still form.
“No.” He crawled closer to her again, ignoring the shifting ground.
“Please.”
His voice broke.
“I don’t want this.”
The distortion spread outward from his knees in a visible wave.
The road beneath him warped, stretching visually for twenty yards before snapping back with a sickening lurch.
The buildings seemed to move miles away, then suddenly rushed back into focus.
Ram grabbed his head, his fingers twisting in his hair.
“Stop.”
The pressure inside his chest was becoming completely unbearable, a burning sensation that felt too large for his body to contain.
“Stop!”
Nothing stopped.
The air folded inward around his shoulders like a collapsing lung.
The van in the distance bent strangely, its rectangular shape becoming completely blurred and transparent.
Ram stared at Shweta one last time.
“I don’t want you to die.”
Something deep inside him gave way.
A violent wave of pure distortion burst outward from his chest.
The asphalt completely disappeared beneath it.
The brick buildings twisted into impossible geometric forms.
The white van was pulled sideways, shattering into nothingness as though the world itself had lost its dimensions.
Ram’s knees left the pavement as his body lifted into the air.
He didn’t seem to notice the lack of gravity.
Tears continued running down his face.
Then something warm and thick slipped from the corners of his eyes.
He touched his cheek, his mind sluggish.
His fingers came away entirely red.
Ram looked at them, thoroughly confused by the fluid.
A dark vortex had begun forming directly behind his floating body, widening without making a single sound.
The street folded inward.
The buildings disappeared into the black center.
The van disappeared.
Shweta’s body disappeared.
Ram tried to reach out his arm toward the space where she had been.
“Shweta…”
His voice was entirely gone.
Then the last piece of reality vanished beneath him.
Everything went black.
His fingers tightened carefully around her hand.
It felt entirely cold.
“I’ll bring my parents to the meeting today, Shweta.
I’ll tell them everything.
You don’t have to worry about it anymore.
I’ll fix it.”
Shweta didn’t answer him.
“Okay?”
Her eyes were already beginning to close.
“Shweta?”
Nothing changed.
“Hey.” He touched her shoulder gently.
“Open your eyes.
Come on.”
She didn’t respond.
“Shweta.” His voice grew weaker, turning into a whisper.
“Come on, wake up.”
He checked her wrist, pressing his fingers against the skin, though he wasn’t even sure what a normal pulse was supposed to feel like.
His fingertips trembled against her flesh.
Nothing.
Not a single thud.
“No.” Ram shook his head, pulling his hand back.
“No, no, she’s going to be okay.
The ambulance will be here.”
He looked toward the empty crossroads.
“Where’s the ambulance?”
Nobody answered him.
The street was empty.
He looked back down at her pale, blood-stained face.
“This isn’t happening.” His voice dropped to a hollow whisper.
“I was just running.”
He stared at the limp shape of her hand.
“I was just running away from you.”
His chest tightened until he couldn’t draw a breath, a physical pressure expanding beneath his ribs.
“If I had just stopped walking…” He couldn’t finish the sentence, but the thought came anyway, heavy and absolute: She wouldn’t be lying here.
Ram lowered his head until his forehead touched the dirt.
“This is my fault.”
A single tear fell onto the back of Shweta’s cold hand.
“I did this.”