The belt
Youngest brother left.
Slamming the door.
And the darkness deepened.
Her breath quickened.
The air in the room felt heavier — thick, suffocating.
The floorboards creaked.
Footsteps.
Slow. Deliberate.
Arush.
The belt hung loose in his hand.
Black leather.
Edges worn sharp from years of use.
"Roaming, Bhuvanya?"
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
She shook her head.
Words stuck in her throat.
He took a step closer.
Then another.
The belt brushed the floor as he dragged it.
The sound made her stomach twist.
"You think I'm a fool?"
He circled her.
Like a predator.
Her torn dress clung to her.
Dust on her knees from when she'd stumbled earlier.
"I was just—"
The belt snapped in the air.
The sound cut her off.
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
First hit — sharp across her arm.
She flinched.
Bit her lip so hard it bled.
Second hit — across her back.
The sting spread like fire.
She wanted to move,
but his hand gripped her shoulder.
Forcing her still.
"You will not wander here again."
His breath was right in her ear.
Another strike — harder.
Her knees gave way.
She gasped, but no sound came out.
When it was over,
he stood over her,
belt coiled in his hand again.
"If you test me again…
it won't be the belt."
And then —
he left.
The silence after was almost worse.