Her

 HER

I’ve always been alone, even with people around me. I learned to move on, survive, and just get by. I’ve always been alone. My mother died giving birth to me, and my father blamed me for it. He drowned himself in alcohol and suffocated me with his sorrow until one day, he drank himself to death. I didn’t cry. I didn’t feel anything. I just dumped everything from that life into a box and burned it.

I work in a call center at a multinational firm, where my boss does nothing but eat and bark orders. His regular yapping was bearable, and I was used to it. My boring life was predictable—until she showed up and ruined the monotony.

Naina, the intern. She did her work better than any of us, and everyone adored her. I wasn’t affected; I was still meeting my targets. But she was like sunlight pouring into a dark room I’d long accepted as home.

One night shift, all my co-workers ordered pizza and soft drinks. They tried to pull me in, but I refused.

“Does she think only she has work? We all do,” someone muttered.

“Leave her, nothing is interesting in her life anyway,” another whispered, followed by soft laughter.

Yes, I was bored. I didn’t care. I was used to being alone.

“Hey, come join us for breakfast tomorrow!” Naina’s cheerful voice cut through my thoughts one day.

I stared at her, “No, thanks, I have things to—”

Before I could finish, she grabbed my wrist and dragged me out of my chair. “Come on, live a little!”

Offended, I pulled away and glared at her. I wasn’t in the mood for this.

“Look at her glaring!” I heard someone say.

“We should just leave her alone,” a voice whispered.

I looked down, trying to push it all away, but Naina didn’t back down.

“I think you said something wrong,” she snapped at our manager, who had been laughing with the others. He looked flustered, then mumbled an apology.

It didn’t matter to me, but I nodded. From that day, Naina attached herself to me like glue. She was annoyingly bright and friendly, but I found myself liking her more and more. We had our meals together, sometimes I joined others and discovered a few good-hearted people. Also, Naina wasn’t always good with her work and needed guidance. I started to smile more, we also went shopping as according to Naina, I wear 90’s style and need to up my game. Things are going good, we both dance together on our monthly cultural day. But happiness is not something I enjoyed for a long time in my life.

My father had passed away years ago, but he left me one final “gift”—a 50 lakh debt. On my birthday, no less, in front of all my co-workers and Naina, who had organized a surprise cake for me.

Everyone stared. The gossip started immediately. My personal life was dragged through the mud, my father’s drinking, the debt—it was all laid bare. I was drowning in the shame, the guilt, the weight of it all. The little beautiful moments I created were destroyed by shameful walks and negative comments.

One night, after deciding that I couldn’t take it anymore, that I would just end it all, the pain of all my family and the life that sucked out any reason to live, my phone buzzed. It was a message from Naina:

"Admire the life
Yes, it is yours
Don’t let others guide it for you
You have to figure it out
You are the diamond among the stones
The diamond that has been through rough times
And now shines hard
You fought the river and the storm
To see the ocean one day
Yes! You are the best thing to happen to yourself."

It was a poem, one I didn’t know I needed until the words unlocked something in me. For the first time in years, I cried. I cried for my father, for my childhood, for everything I had lost and locked away. I cried for myself. Cry out the disgust of being alive, the pain of killing my birth giver. The loneliness that ate out my existence in a world full of people was going away as I shed more tears. Each drop carries out the day I spend and curse myself, and just like holy water it wash away the suffering.

I took a few days off work, and when I returned, Naina was gone. She’d left the company without a word. I wanted to thank her, so I went to the HR office.

“Ma’am, can I get Naina’s address? I need to discuss something personal.”

The HR lady looked at me like I had lost my mind. “Who?”

“Naina. The intern. You know, the one with the brown highlights? She worked with us during the night shifts.”

The HR lady sighed, exasperated. “I don’t have time for this. What is this about?”

“I just need her address. I want to—”

“For God’s sake,” she interrupted, “you’ve been working alone for months! There is no Naina.”

“What?” I stared at her, feeling the air leave my lungs. “That’s not possible. She was here. She worked with us. She helped me...”

HR looked at me with pity. “Look, I get it that you are dealing with the debt but you’ve been here alone. Maybe... you’re just stressed?”

I fumbled for my phone, scrolling back through my photos until I found a picture of the group from last month’s cultural day. “Look!” I shoved the photo toward her, my hand shaking. “That’s her. Right there. The girl with the bright smile.”

HR squinted at the image. “That’s you.”

I looked closer, my heart pounding in my chest. The girl I had pointed to was... me. The same brown highlights. The same pink frock.

I stumbled backward, laughing through the confusion, as though the truth had been some joke I hadn’t caught onto earlier. My breath hitched as I laughed harder, tears forming in my eyes.

“Naina...” I whispered, only to find her beside me, grinning like always.

And in that moment, I felt her warmth again, just like before.