It was crowded—too crowded. The metro was jammed with people, pushing and shoving, each lost in their own world. This was the second time I’d lost my memory and ended up here, and still, I had no clue how I got in. All I could remember was the fight. Some street girls had crossed me. They were fucking b*tches. I hit them hard. My fists were swollen now, throbbing with pain, but I didn’t care.

The gate finally opened, spilling me out into the harsh afternoon sun. I started toward home, feeling the sting of exhaustion in my limbs, but worry wasn’t my priority. Ever since Mom died last year, I’d drifted into carelessness. What was there to care about? Health? Life? Money was all that mattered now. I needed to escape this slum, get rich, make a life that wasn’t drowning in drugs, filth, and death. Around here, rape and murder were ordinary. Every day someone disappeared or was killed. The police did nothing. They stuffed their pockets, laughed behind closed doors, and ran away from crime scenes. Fucking bastards.

“Where were you last night?” my sister’s voice broke through my thoughts, sharp and mocking rather than concerned.

Maybe she was with a guy—her new boyfriend, the one who always tried to take chances with me. I could almost feel his eyes scanning me naked. Bastard.

“What did you just say?” she demanded.

“Nothing… go finish your work on the sofa,” I muttered, my voice low.

I knew what they were doing on that sofa. My sister loved this kind of fancy. Her room was plastered with pictures of porn stars. She changed boyfriends like clothes. This one was worse than the last, and probably more perverse.

“By the way, go to the kitchen and make tea for us,” she ordered.

I obeyed, walking past the piles of garbage and grime in the hallway. My little brother, Ruhan, was nowhere in sight. Nine years old, and already lost in a world that didn’t care. I searched the rooms—every corner—but he wasn’t there.

“Where’s Ruhan?” I asked, trying to keep my voice calm.

“He’s playing with his friends,” she said casually.

“Shut up. He has no friends,” I snapped.

“He made some last night,” she said, smirking as if it was some kind of joke.

My brother was too little to fight back. Last time, some kids had beaten him badly. He’d felt ill for days. He was so sensitive, fragile, and she didn’t care. My sister only ever thought about her pleasures, chasing men, chasing fantasies. But I wasn’t like her. I was different—different from her, different from this place, from this slum world, from this craziness.

I clenched my fists, feeling the pain from the earlier fight flare up. Memories of the streets, the punches, the chaos, all mixed with the suffocating stench of this place. It was a slum where every day was a battle, and no one cared. I wanted out—money, freedom, anything that would get me away from this misery. But first, I had to survive today—navigate through my sister’s twisted world, find Ruhan, and somehow keep myself from disappearing into the madness that had become our lives.

As I stepped out of my tiny home—a makeshift shelter barely deserving the name—I felt the familiar weight of emptiness. It wasn’t a home, not really. Just two cramped rooms and a single bathroom. Mother had raised us alone. We didn’t know who our father was, and truthfully, we never wished to. That bastard didn’t deserve a place in our lives.

I made my way to the small patch of land where kids were playing football. The ground was cramped, barely enough space to kick a ball, but laughter and shouts filled the air anyway. I scanned the crowd, searching for Ruhan. Of course, the little one had hidden himself behind a wall. Frustrating. He always had to make life harder.

“What are you doing here?” I barked.

He trembled. I grabbed his hands and dragged him along. “Did you bunk your classes? Why? Do you have a death wish, huh? Don’t become like your older sister. She’s lost her mind after Mom died. It’s her way of avoiding reality, I guess.”

“I’m hungry,” he mumbled, eyes downcast.

“I know,” I said, softening a little. “That’s why I brought you to the food stall. Cheap, yes, but at least you’ll eat. Dosa.” I added, almost proudly. Dosa—an Indian dish, simple but filling.

“Hey… give me one plate of dosa,” I called to the girl behind the counter. She glanced at me, her soft smile lingering for a moment before she handed over the plate. We sat there quietly for two minutes. Ruhan devoured his meal, small hands fumbling with the food, eyes lighting up as he ate.

When he finished, I handed the girl the money.

“Wait… did you recognize me?” she asked, a glimmer of hope in her eyes.

I hesitated. I did know her. She had been in my class once, a friend back in a life that felt distant now. But I couldn’t afford distractions—not from memories, not from people. All I wanted was to escape, to get rich, to leave this slum and everything that dragged me down. “I know you,” I said quietly, “but I don’t want to reunite with school friends. Right now, all of you… all of this… it’s in the way of my dream.”

Her smile faltered slightly, but she nodded, understanding—or at least pretending to. I focused on Ruhan, who was now rubbing his full belly and looking at me with that childlike trust that made my chest ache. I had to protect him. Even if this world had already stolen so much from us, I couldn’t let it take him too.

The little one stayed close to me as we walked back, his small hand tucked into mine. Every step reminded me of the life we had, the streets, the fights, the harsh smells of this slum, and the chaos that had become normal. I clenched my fists, remembering the fight earlier, the pain in my hands, the thrum of adrenaline that never left me. I had to survive, not just for me, but for Ruhan too. Somehow, some way, we had to make it out of this madness alive. And I promised myself—I would. No one could drag us down again.

It was nighttime when I tried to sleep. The faint creak of the door announced my sister and her boyfriend entering the room. Ruhan was already asleep, curled up in his little blanket, peaceful and unaware. But me… I felt a surge of frustration, almost anger. That bastard—her boyfriend—made me want to kill him right there.

Before I could think more, the world tilted. Darkness swallowed me, and the next thing I knew, I was waking up… in the metro. Again. This is insane. Absolutely insane.

The metro was crowded as usual, but this time, everyone’s eyes were on me. Suspicious. Curious. Maybe even scared. Their stares were piercing, like they could see through me. My hair was a mess, tangled and clinging to my face, and my eyes were swollen—bruised, like someone had beaten me. But I didn’t remember anything. What had happened? How did I end up here again? What was going on? What was happening to me?

I staggered to my feet, gripping the rail for balance, and slowly made my way out of the train. The cold night air hit me as I stepped onto the platform. The streets outside were dimly lit, the usual chaos and grime surrounding me. I didn’t want to go home, didn’t want to face that nightmare of a room again. But where else could I go?

Every step felt heavy. My mind was clouded with confusion, fragments of memories I couldn’t piece together. My fists ached, my head throbbed, and yet I felt an invisible pull toward the life I was trying to escape from—the slum, my sister, Ruhan, and all the mess in between.

I walked on, the neon lights flickering above me, the distant sounds of traffic and shouts merging into a muffled roar. Every shadow seemed to move, every passerby looked suspicious. My body felt tense, like I was constantly bracing for a fight I didn’t even know I was in.

Home… I didn’t want to go home. But instinctively, I found myself heading there anyway. Something about Ruhan, about responsibility, about survival, kept dragging me back. Even if this world and my memories were breaking me apart, I had to keep moving. Somehow, I had to find out what was happening. Somehow, I had to survive…

I saw a police jeep parked right in front of my home. My heart skipped a beat. What was happening? The moment I stepped closer, I saw my sister crying, her face pale and streaked with tears.

“Run!” The voice of the girl from the food stall whispered sharply in my ear.

“What?” I froze. Before I could react, she grabbed my hand and dragged me into a hidden alley, out of sight.

“You shouldn’t go there… why did you come?” she hissed, her eyes wide with urgency.

“What do you mean?” I asked, confused and tense.

“You don’t remember what you did?” she said, her voice trembling.

“What I did?” Panic clawed at my chest.

“Omg… listen. You have to be careful. You need to leave this city, hide from the police… right now.”

“Why? What happened?” I asked, my voice shaking.

Her eyes darted around before she whispered, “The guy… your sister’s boyfriend… he’s dead. And your sister told the police that you killed him… in front of her.”

The world around me shattered. My mind went blank. Blood? Death? What? My hands felt heavy, sticky… or was that just my imagination? I couldn’t remember a thing. Nothing. The last night… it was all gone. All I knew was that I had woken up this morning at the metro station, confused, bruised, and… alone.

I stumbled back against the wall, my chest heaving. “I… I don’t remember anything. How… what…?”

The girl looked at me with a mixture of fear and pity. “Just… trust me. You have to leave. Now. Before the police find you. You don’t even know what’s coming… but it’s bad.”

Everything felt unreal. My memories, my world, my control… gone. All I could do was follow her, somewhere hidden, hoping against hope that I could survive the storm that had just begun.