Chapter 149 : Wouldn't it be a wonderful thing if you all shared the same fate?

Farah sleep for mere three hours after securing Ava's Pacebook account. Her slumber was abruptly cut short by a sharp knock on her door.

Instinctively, Farah rose from her bed and trudged towards the door, her movements sluggish with sleep deprivation. Opening the door, she was met by Zeba's grave expression.

Zeba blurted out with urgency, "the unthinkable has happened."

Farah managed a barely coherent, "What?"

Zeba grabbed her arm, practically dragging her towards the common living area. There, Noor and Mahi sat perched on the L-shaped sofa, their gazes fixated on a single object placed on the coffee table – the pregnancy test kit.

Farah's sleep-deprived mind struggled to process the scene. Her gaze darted towards Mahi. Before she could even voice her question, the words tumbled out in a jumbled mess, "Don't tell me you're....." 

The sentence remained unfinished. Farah reached for the kit. A single glance confirmed her suspicions. Two distinct lines stared back at her, a confirmation of Mahi's pregnancy.

A single, explosive expletive burst from Farah's lips – "What the fuc*!" 

Noor and Zeba also had the same reaction earlier. Zeba perched on the armrest of the sofa, "What now? What will happen now?" 

Noor leaned forward and addressed Mahi directly, "I just want to be clear... are you absolutely certain there wasn't anyone else involved besides Professor Syed?"

Mahi's eyes narrowed slightly, "Why do you keep asking the same question over and over again? Do you honestly believe that I would have sex before marriage with anyone like that? You all know what Professor Syed did. There was no one else other than him."

Farah let out a heavy sigh, "Why didn't you take the emergency contraceptive pill Professor Syed gave you? Haven't you learned anything from the basic biology classes you took?"

Her voice rose slightly, "Even if the specifics of emergency contraception somehow vanished from your memory, you had 72 crucial hours! Three whole days to confide in any of us. We were here, Mahi. We're your friends. What were you thinking? What on earth possessed you to do nothing?"

Pushed to the edge by the barrage of questions, Mahi shot up from the sofa, "Do you even know what happened that day? Do you have any idea what Professor Syed did to me? Do you know the terror I felt when Professor Syed ripped my clothes? Can you even imagine the humiliation, the violation? Do you know how many times I told him to stop? How much I cried the entire time, feeling utterly helpless as he.... Can you even imagine the horror of reliving that nightmare every time I close my eyes? Did you know the sick pleasure he took in recording those moments? You have seen the state I was in when I stumbled back here the next morning? And you ask me about 72 hours? Farah, those next three days were pure hell. How can you stand there and ask me such insensitive questions?"

The room plunged into a heavy silence. Zeba reached out and gently grasped Mahi's hand. "Mahi, this isn't the time to-"

"Just shut up, Zeba! Today, I have to say many things." Mahi cut her off with a sharp retort.

Her gaze snapped back to Farah, "You're lucky, Farah. You have no idea how fortunate you are to have escaped what the three of us had to endure. Perfect justice served if you had all faced the same consequences. It would be good if you got raped, just like us. Wouldn't it be a wonderful thing if you all shared the same fate? A taste of the same violation? Perhaps then you'd understand the gravity of your insensitive questions! Maybe then you'd see why your questions seem so trivial, so insensitive in the face of what we've been through."

Noor and Zeba gaped at Mahi. This was a side of Mahi they had never witnessed. Mahi was a weak and shy kind of a girl who rarely got angry.

The four of them had been living together since their first year, sharing a close bond. Never before had there been such a hostile outburst, especially not laced with such malicious intent. 

Farah remained silent. Her gaze dropped downwards. The corners of her mouth trembled. A lump formed in her throat. Tears were absent. They simply couldn't contain the immensity of the wreckage her heart was experiencing. Farah was strong, yes. But strength doesn't render one immune to emotional blows.

The saying goes, "Tears are the language of the heart," but what happens when that language goes unspoken? Sometimes, the well of tears runs dry, leaving a hollowness within. But that doesn't mean the heart isn't drowning in a silent symphony of its own.

Imagine your heart as a grand palace. Joyful moments lay the foundation, strong and unwavering. But when faced with loss, disappointment, or unspoken pain, cracks begin to appear. These cracks are the silent cries of the heart. They represent the hopes, dreams, or expectations that have shattered. 

This hidden suffering can lead to the birth of a villain.

In many ways, villains are not inherently evil from the start. Instead, they are shaped by the relentless pressure and cruelty inflicted upon them by the world around them. We often overlook the silent struggles of individuals who are pushed to their breaking points. 

Family, meant to be a source of love and support, can sometimes become the breeding ground for resentment and bitterness. Whether it's through neglect, abuse, or simply the inability to understand, family dynamics can leave deep scars on the hearts of those who feel misunderstood and unloved.

Friends, who are supposed to stand by us through thick and thin, can also be the catalysts for our downfall. Unknowingly perhaps they may inflict wounds with their words or actions.

As time goes by, the steady loss of caring and understanding can change a person. Their hurt and pain can turn into anger and a need for payback. 

When no one sees the sadness and pain, the person can feel more and more alone. They might start to feel like the world is against them and that things are not fair. In this dark place, what's good and bad can start to mix together, and it becomes hard to tell who's the hero and who's the villain. Someone who used to be full of hope and kindness can become bitter and want to get even, wanting to let out all the hurt they've been holding inside.

"Mahi," Farah said, "these are words you wouldn't utter even to your worst enemy. You don't understand what you just said. Even.... You all don't have any idea what I had done for you."

Mahi scoffed. "What did you do, Farah? Hacked a phone and deleted those videos? We still don't even know if Professor Syed truly obeyed orders and erased everything! You just want praise, don't you? A pat on the back for your fancy hacking skills."

A bitter chuckle escaped Farah's lips, "Oh, yeah. That's all I did. Nothing more than a glory seeker, parading my hacking skills for attention."

The notion that only boys are capable of committing acts of force is a misconception that overlooks the complexity of human behavior. Today, Farah shattered this stereotype by committing a heinous act of rape. Today she became a räpist. No one knew what she did with Jessica. And maybe no one ever would come to know.

Unable to bear the suffocating atmosphere any longer, Farah turned and walked towards the door. 

Zeba made a move to stop Farah, but Noor placed a restraining hand on her arm. "Leave her alone," Noor whispered. "She needs some space."

Farah stepped out of the apartment and into the world. The weight of the past few days, the crushing disappointment, the simmering anger – all of it threatened to consume her. She looked up, and a veil of rain greeted her.

The morning December rain of Kuala Lumpur painted the city in a hazy grey. The typically vibrant streets seemed muted. Each drop that kissed her skin felt like a cold tear. 

Farah walked, her feet carrying her along the bustling main road. On either side, the cityscape unfolded before her. People hurried along, some using shelter under brightly colored umbrellas, while others braved the downpour, their clothes plastered to their skin.

Motorcycles weaved through the traffic, their riders clad in raincoats, their headlights cutting through the misty air. Shops and cafes lined the street, their windows offering glimpses of warmth and refuge from the wet outside.

She couldn't help but wonder – "Does anyone here know my secret that I'm a rapist? Does anyone know? Does anyone suspect what I've become?"

Lost in her thoughts, she drifted towards the center of the busy road. She was on the zebra crossing but a crucial detail escaped her notice – the traffic light. It was still green, allowing cars to flow freely through the intersection. 

The scene around her seemed muted, the honking horns and shouts from impatient drivers a dull roar in her ears. Farah remained rooted to the spot, oblivious to the growing danger. Her gaze locked on a single point – a car speeding towards her. It was a blur of metal and flashing headlights growing larger by the second.

Time seemed to slow down. Farah stood there - frozen. As if she were waiting for something to happen. Perhaps a part of her recognized the danger, but didn't want to take immediate action. The car's driver might have slammed on the brakes, but the wet road reduced their effectiveness. 

Just as the car seemed about to make a horrific impact, a strong force yanked Farah backward. The world spun as she was pulled aside with surprising strength. A loud screech filled the air, followed by the whoosh of the car rushing past where she had been standing a split second earlier.

Farah stumbled. Looking up, she met the concerned gaze of Samir. Rain continued to pour down, soaking them both to the bone. She blinked. The world slowly came back into focus, the sounds of traffic returning to normal. It had been a close call, a brush with death that left her shaken but grateful.