Manik's POV
"Romeo's asleep again." The nasal voice of the guard comes down like a hammer on my peaceful slumber. I keep my eyes shut, not ready to give up on her voice just yet. The guard's baton clanks against the steel bars of the cell, making me flinch. No, don't go! I instruct my dream, forcing it to stay. Her tinkling laughter surrounds me, a one of a kind, contagious grin flashing at me. I feel myself reach out towards the source of the sound, as if to box it in, leaving no chance for escape. A gasp escapes my trembling lips, my agonised nerves causing me to sit up. I'm doused in ice cold water, the liquid seeping into the very corners of my underwear.
"It's time to stop fantasising about Juliet and face reality, where none of us get fucked." The guard says, tossing the empty pail across the narrow space that I now call my living quarters. It clatters around the cemented enclosure, making me wince. Living in such a place causes even the softest of sounds to seem loud, and this was downright chaotic.
"Clean that up and then report for breakfast duty." The man instructs as he exits, the door creaking loosely in his wake. I glance around at the mess he's made. The liquid has seeped into the many cracks and crevices on the ground that weren't present when I first came here. But it's my fault - the damage - because many a time I experience a dream I don't wish to wake up from. In fact, sleep may now be the only time when I can find a sliver of peace because she's in it; the only time when I get to witness her almost as if she were real.
Maybe I believe that one day these dreams will turn into reality once again. I get off the bed - although calling it that is simply misleading - my feet landing on the wet floor. She was wrong. At times there's no sunlight at all. If there had been any, then surely this ground would feel warm. The rays would've lit up the walls and brought in some semblance of reality to the paint adorning them. I grab the handle of the wiper and begin the job I've done a hundred times before by now.
*****
"Lover boy, French toast again?" Jakra shakes his head in disappointment. "Did your Heer teach you nothing else?" Ignoring him - an art I've mastered over these six months - I spoon two toasts onto another convict's plate. Some of us, like him, have accepted our fate and are willing to live with defeat. Maybe that's why we've told no one our real names and live with the three black numbers spread across our pockets to act as our recognition.
"Uh uh," Zeeshan sneers, picking up a toast from the steel container in front of me. He slaps it against the side of my face, as I stand there, unflinching. "You can keep my share." Zeeshan watches me, awaiting my retaliation. He's been trying this for months now, when will he tire? I allow the toast to slide off my face and land on the floor next to my feet.
"Whatever," he murmurs, walking off towards his posse, tired of seeking some form of emotion from me. That word - emotion - is a far off thought nowadays.
"This place is full of pussies." A guy yells, looking at me pointedly. Lips sealed, I continue with my task. Little do they know that if I came to fighting them, then even if they called an entire cavalry, they wouldn't stand a chance. Alas, I don't wish to. After all, what will it be for? A fight should have a cause of gain and I've nothing to gain when six months back I lost the greatest battle of my life.
*****
"Show confidence," Eva coaches me. "You're not guilty, remember that." I nod my head, my eyes searching the partially empty hallways for her.
"Can I have your phone?" I ask my friend impatiently. "Mine is still in custody."
"Nandini will be here, Manik." Eva says, handing me her phone. "I could smack her in the face with evidence against you and she will still deem you innocent." Pulling up Angel's number, I call her up. The persistent ringing drones into my ear. Pick up. Pick up, I mentally chant. The call ends, my heart skipping a beat. Could she have messed up the time of today's hearing? Overslept, perhaps? But Angel isn't me, which means she's punctual as hell and yet she's not here.
"Manik, chances are that Nandini is already inside." Eva assures me, eyeing the frown lines on my forehead. I chew on my bottom lip, a sinking feeling creeping into my heart. No! Angel will come. She and I have moved past our trust issues. My heart refuses to believe our love is this weak that some third party can easily come and wreck it into pieces.
As Eva and I near the courtroom doors, hope sparks in my heart. Angel's inside. She has to be. My friend steps aside, gesturing for me to head in first. After all, my current anxiety is no secret. Eagerly, I push the door inwards and step into the courtroom, my eyes searching the seats for her familiar face.
"No," I whisper, refusing to accept the truth my eyes are seeing. Angel's not here. I step back, my behind hitting Eva's front.
"Manik," she wraps her arm around mine. "She's running late, that's all." There's no conviction in my friend's voice. She doesn't believe what she's saying, and neither do I. I allow her to guide me towards the front of the room. Eva sits me down in a seat and then lowers herself into the one beside me. Angel's not here. Truth be told, none of this matters anymore - me being here, Eva sitting beside me, us fighting this case. The one person who should believe in my innocence - the only one whose verdict truly matters to me - isn't here.
I turn in my seat, gluing my eyes to the doors. Seconds pass by and then minutes, but there's still no sign of my Angel.
"Ten minutes until the fight begins." Eva says, shaking her leg nervously. On cue, Alya walks into the courtroom, followed by her lawyer. At once she makes eye contact with me, raising her eyebrow questioningly. This is all about money for her. Yesterday Alya spoke with me, wishing to strike a deal. If I gave her the sum she desired, then she would drop the charges. But if not, then Alya will continue to fight this case. I break eye contact with her and continue to stare at the doors. Please come, Angel. Please. As Eva told me, our opposing council has called Dhruv to testify against me regarding my past. They even wanted to call Rebecca, but of course she refused. Instead, she will be appearing as our testifier.
"Two minutes until they lock the doors." Eva whispers, her line of sight mirroring mine. "Where is Nandini?" That's the same question I have been asking myself since we stepped foot in the courthouse. My breath catches in my throat as the guards shut the doors and position themselves in front of them. I've lost. There's nothing left to fight for.
The trial begins with Alya and my respective lawyers presenting our case. Alya is first called to testify, then Dhruv and then Rebecca comes to speak in my favour. Finally, it's my turn to appear on the stand. Throughout the proceedings, Eva kept giving me her input, and she believes that our case is stronger than Alya's. Only my testimony is left to wrap matters up.
"Thank you for everything." I say to Eva, as I rise from my seat. "And I'm sorry." I don't give her enough time to ask for a recess and privately converse with me. Instead, I decide to open my mouth and ruin all her efforts. "Your Honour, I plead guilty for sexually assaulting Alya Murthy."
*****
"What's the point of all these drawings?" Noah asks, as he sweeps the floor of my cell. "Wouldn't it be better if you found somebody you can touch? A woman who you can actually converse with." I allow a pained smile to stretch across my lips. I once had the honour of doing much more than that with her. "Man, you should join us at the fences." I stare at the Rubik's cube in my hand, Noah's words falling on deaf ears.
"I'm good, thanks," I murmur.
"Ay, number 149!" A guard's voice drills into my ears. "Your boyfriend's here." Languidly, I stand up. It's always the same routine.
"Have fun," Noah winks at me teasingly. I chuck the Rubik's cube towards my bed and make my way towards the meeting room. There aren't many people who I can call as friends in this hell, but Noah is surely the only person who shows me kindness. I wish that I could form a bond with him, which consisted of much more than an occasional conversation. But truth be told, I do not have any energy left in me to form friendships, or any other sort of relationships with anyone in particular. I'm an empty vessel, devoid of emotions. Now my only goal in life is to exist out the remainder of my days in this hell and pray that death embraces me soon.
I push open the meeting room's heavy metal door. It clicks shut behind me, the bright lights in the room making me squint.
"Manik!" Cabir yells enthusiastically. Lord knows how this man has managed to keep up the same levels of enthusiasm for all these months. Anyone else would've tired by now, and forgotten about me a long time ago. "Do they not feed you anything or do you not eat food that isn't made by your Angel?" As soon as the words escape Cabir's lips, he realises his mistake.
"Hello, boyfriend." I greet him, turning a deaf ear to his slip-up, so as to avoid an awkward situation for the both of us.
"We should honestly make out at some point to give these people a real taste of the spice in our relationship." I continue to walk around the four corners of the room. "Honestly, though, what makes them think we're a couple?"
"Probably the fact that you're the only visitor I get," I reply. "Or that you're here every visiting day, on time, every week. Or the fact that you don't leave until they either manhandle you out or me." Cabir steps in my way, blocking me from continuing my back and forth pacing. Why do you even come anymore? We've got nothing left to relate to and neither am I much of a talker nowadays. But I don't ask this because regardless of whatever happened to me, I still am the Devil and so selfishness comes naturally to me. Also, I believe that Cabir is the thin thread that's tethering me to sanity. Without these meetings with him, I truly fear I will lose my mind.
"Eva and Aahan are tying the knot tomorrow. She had intended to visit you today, but in all honesty the woman's having a mental breakdown." Cabir updates me.
"I understand," I say truthfully. Which bride would like to enter a gloomy prison and upset her mood the day before her wedding?
"I went on six dates this week and nothing progressed much." Cabir always lists off the week's happenings. But I don't know how to tell him that this method of his upsets me much more than it helps. Instead of allowing me to feel as if I'm a part of the life outside, I merely end up realising just how much I'm missing out on. But I don't tell him so because I fear then we will have nothing to discuss and he'll vanish just like the rest.