Chapter 9: Worse Than a Monster

11:30 PM – A Sister’s Silent Breakdown

Ankita sat on her bed, staring at the row of NEET books gathering dust on her shelf. They hadn’t been touched in months, but tonight, they mocked her.

Three years. Three attempts. Three failures.

She had spent years convincing herself that she could crack NEET, that if she just worked a little harder, a little longer, she would see her name on the selection list. But hard work had not been enough. When the results came out last year, her hands had trembled opening the website. For a moment, she had prayed—not to top, not even to get into AIIMS—just to see a passing score.

But reality had been cruel.

Now, she was in an engineering college. Not because she had wanted to be there, but because she had no choice.

The dream of becoming a doctor had slipped through her fingers like sand.

She inhaled sharply, wiping away the tears before they could spill. Crying wouldn't change the past.

But tonight, the regret felt unbearable.

"I was supposed to be a doctor."

Instead, she had become something else—the silent pillar of the family.

She took their mother to doctor appointments. She reminded their father to take his medicines. She listened to their parents’ worries, their whispered concerns about Debasish, about the loans, about their crumbling hopes.

And Debasish?

He was still chasing the dream that had destroyed her.

Or at least, he was supposed to be.

12:00 AM – The Call That Shatters Him

Her phone buzzed. The screen lit up with a familiar name.

Debasish.

She hesitated. He rarely called this late. A part of her didn’t want to pick up, afraid of what he might say—afraid of what she might say. But another part of her, the part that had always cared for him like a mother, swiped the green button.

"Hello?" she said, her voice steady despite the storm inside her.

There was silence on the other end, followed by a soft, hesitant voice.

> Debasish: "Didi, are you awake?"

She closed her eyes, exhaling slowly.

> Ankita: (Wiping her face) "Yeah, what happened?"

Debasish: (Softly) "I don’t know… I just feel like I can’t do this."

Her heart clenched.

Not again.

She had heard these words before. She had said these words before.

She sat up, pressing the phone tighter against her ear. "Debasish…" she began, then stopped herself. What was she supposed to say? That he just needed to try harder? That everything would be okay?

Because it wouldn't. She knew that better than anyone.

A bitter laugh escaped her lips.

> Ankita: "Do you think I wanted this life?"

Debasish: (Confused) "What?"

Ankita: (Voice breaking) "Do you think I wanted to quit? To give up? To disappoint everyone?"

There was a long silence. She could hear his breathing, uneven, as if he was holding back something.

She didn't know why she was saying all this. Maybe because it was late, maybe because she was exhausted from pretending to be strong, maybe because tonight, the weight of everything felt heavier than usual.

> Ankita: "I studied for three years, Debasish. Three years of my life—gone. I failed, and do you know what that means? It means I don’t get to be a doctor. It means I have to watch Mom struggle and know that I can’t do anything about it. It means I have to watch you follow the same path, making the same mistakes, and I can’t even stop you!"

Her voice cracked at the last word. She hadn’t meant to get emotional, but the truth had a way of breaking through, no matter how hard she tried to hold it in.

On the other end, Debasish said nothing.

Maybe he didn’t know what to say. Maybe there was nothing to say.

> Ankita: (Whispers) "You still have a chance. But you’re throwing it away."

She wasn’t sure if she was trying to guilt-trip him or if she was just tired of pretending that everything would be fine.

> Debasish: (Guilt creeping in) "Didi, I—"

Ankita: (Crying now) "I failed, Debasish. And sometimes… sometimes I feel like I don't deserve to live."

The words hung between them, suffocating, heavy.

Debasish felt something inside him shatter.

His sister—his strongest support, his second mother—felt like she didn’t deserve to live.

Because of a failure.

A failure he was walking toward.

1:00 AM – Worse Than a Monster

The call had ended, but the weight of Ankita’s words remained.

Debasish sat by the window, staring at his reflection in the glass. The streetlights outside cast a dim glow, barely illuminating his face.

What have I become?

His mother was suffering.

His father was breaking.

His sister had lost everything.

And him?

He was sitting here, scrolling on his phone, watching meaningless videos, wasting precious hours he would never get back.

He clenched his fists.

Monsters destroy people.

But what he was doing—watching his family break apart while he drowned in distractions—was worse than what any monster could do.

A monster does not pretend to be good.

A monster does not make excuses.

A monster does not promise to change and then fall back into the same patterns, over and over again.

But he did.

And that made him worse than a monster.

For the first time in months, Debasish felt something shift inside him.

Not motivation.

Not determination.

Not even hope.

Just an unbearable, suffocating realization.

If he didn’t change now…

He never would.

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