Her Trials, Her Tribulations: INSECURITIES, #1.5

By Akshat Pathak

This book "Her Trials, Her Tribulations" is an adaptation of the dark fiction title "Her Heinous Defloration" and is published for the general audience with significant changes to make it reader-friendly, without the use of explicit language and graphics that might be inappropriate for general light fiction readers, especially young adults. Conclusive of the same, this book has no age barrier.



A refining tale of classic young adult fiction, describing the fall of a woman's beauty and the rise of her wicked fragility.

Following the night of her blood-stained body in the dark sky, Pooja, the resident of the Mumbai city finds herself entangled between the shades of life and death. She finds herself frozen cold and dead to demand altruism for any human being present in her life, except her ally. Her heart begins wandering in the jungles of justice for her sufferings, but all she holds onto is a release, away from the faithless shelter in her life.

She leaves her family and begins her journey in the cold relentless culture somewhere close by, from the scene of her traumatic fall from rise. She seeks herself away from the judiciary of the Grim Reaper, from the trap of emotions for years, living alone in the nemesis of the hard-hearted night… Until, one day, her ally, her emotional saviour meets the end of her three-year-long, loveless life. Not with death, not with tribulation, but with an unfortunate new chance. Love.

The chance of love, which placed curtains in their hearts following the night of a December bonfire. What really happened that night? Who was Pooja, the sixth sense of Mumbai's uncensored protests? Who was her ally, whom people trusted as her suffering? And of all, what was the unfortunate chance, who was the unfortunate chance, hiding amongst these clouds?

A suspense tale worth describing the cents of human insecurities, motifs, romanticized past lives, the young adults, and women in distress!



"Notion to the unapologetic who fabricates the bad over the good in life… this book will be savoured by the young adults intrigued in the themes of classical background setting, with impending thrill & suspense."

• Language: English
• Publisher: Akshat S. Pathak
• Release date: May 27, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224140855

Book preview

Her Trials, Her Tribulations

Akshat Pathak

Akshat S. Pathak

Copyright © 2024 Akshat Pathak

Format: Ebook (Standard Edition)

Publisher: Akshat S. Pathak

The content of this book is solely owned by its respective author and he does not have the obligation to transfer the written rights of the content to any entity. The characters, scenes, and theories present within the book are completely fictional and therefore do not constitute any reference toward a living entity through any possible scenario. If any such reference is unconsciously made, it is purely coincidental and has nothing to do with the real-life prospects alongside the content written herein. Infringement or any unauthorized use of the author’s work, without the sole permission of the publisher, will lead the next party to legal consequences and strict actions will be taken against the same with notice. Before seeking commercial use, the entity must consult the author regarding its use, and formal written approval must be taken from the publisher.

All the distribution rights of this book are owned by Akshat S. Pathak. All the covers, content design, marketing, and it’s distribution are the commercial rights of the publisher, and no matter what the consequences, one must not seek the commercial sale, or distribution of this book without the written approval and consent from the publisher.

Authorized Book Distributor: Naman Publications & Distributors

Cover Design: ©Akshat S. Pathak

Publisher address: 25, 1st floor, Creation Majestic, Ramkrishna Society-2, Narendra nagar, Nagpur, Maharashtra, India – 440015

Publisher Ph.no: [phone]

Dedicated to her insecurities,and my soulful cries..

Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

NARRATIVE - 1

NARRATIVE – 2

NARRATIVE – 3

NARRATIVE – 4

NARRATIVE – 5

NARRATIVE – 6

NARRATIVE – 7

NARRATIVE – 8

NARRATIVE – 9

NARRATIVE – 10

NARRATIVE – 11

NARRATIVE – 12

NARRATIVE – 13

INSECURITIES

Acknowledgement

About The Author

Books By This Author

Women are not non-existential, yet they prefer to be lifeless…

NARRATIVE - 1

I was once fearless, but now I fear everybody, especially men.

Maybe this is controversial but yes, I do fear them and the reason lies behind my tragic past. You know, it’s very painful when your childhood friends betray you as if you meant nothing to them. And not just you, but also your best friend who has been with you for a long time, living in the same society where you grew up with her and chose to make new friends that would be worth it. Her story and that of mine are quite the same, the only difference is the way we cope with it in our devastating lives which no longer could seek happiness as a ray of light, anymore.

I still remember the day when it all happened, when we both were raped and fucked to hell as if life never wished us to live happily, without any wear and tear! Both of us were squealing and crying for help but no friends of ours came to help us because our friends themselves were the ones who raped us! Funny, isn’t it? Those two childhood friends whom you thought to be your everything, unforgivably turn out to be the rapists who raped you in the void! Made you feel sick about everything and made you feel like a whore even when you weren’t one!!

I still cry about this fact every day and there’s no single person in our society who doesn’t know a thing about it.

Anyways, in this life, somewhere hidden from the dark, it was no longer about my inner feelings anymore, but the things I scribbled in this diary of mine. I never really wrote anything in my entire life until that night came and changed my life forever. Till that point, I had always been someone who wished to be in the company of her friends and family rather than in solitude which never meant anything, rather unaccepted loneliness. But now, as the fear of approximate human beings had grown within the depth of my heart, I rather wished to spend my life alone, writing in the darkness. It’s tough to accept who I have turned into now, but sometimes the world is a better place with fewer people around, and lesser trust issues allowed to rape the shit out of you. Because in the end, loneliness won’t rape you but the company of those filthy traitors will.

Believe me, this story of ours ought to be different. Remarkably, one of the most tragic tales you would ever compensate for your life with. But if you wish to know the reason, you will first, need to learn our lesson;)

NARRATIVE – 2

It doesn’t haunt me anymore, no it doesn’t! I am a strong woman and I know how to fight alone, being a real feminist. Just fuck those people who look at me as if I committed some crime or was at fault.

Because the whole problem was those shitty men who tortured my body and did not even care about those scars I persist on my bleeding vagina… It sucks but I do not care about anything, not people, not my own disgraceful family, and not this entire world. The only person I still trust is Lavanya and everybody else is a mere scoundrel, whom I do not want to associate with, anymore. But that doesn’t mean I would call resistive silence in for things I did not deserve! I will keep fighting till the end when those pricks get sentenced to life imprisonment because that is what remains my solitary aim.

But if they win this trial in the court, it would be me who would murder them just like the way they had murdered me, that night! I would never back out, because nor do I have any family to care for, nor any goal to live for, in the mighty shade of life.

Time is nothing to me anymore because it’s been three years straight since that fucking day when I lost myself to this cruel world. The judgment of the trial yet seems far away and that’s what hurts me the most. All I am doing every day is going to work at some place I didn’t like and work for the sake of some fuckin money! Half of my time is consumed in shit that shows me no signs of justice, while all my lawyer does every month is, ask for the money she has her real interest in. It was a much worse situation for me than it seemed. At times I felt, that if it had been possible, I would have fought my case rather than her, somehow reviving some hope for justice in the dark! I did not wish to fall prey to the injustice of this heinous defloration of me and my best friend who were still suffering to the gest of everything. I did not intend to sight the shameful glow in the eyes of every other person around me, who saw the impurity within me, as the reason for agile failure. I did not wish to be defeated in this life and fall pray to the dead wishes for those suspects whom the court yet trusted more than us, survivors who had somehow survived the gest of that terrifying night. Being raped, sexually assaulted, and later injured within, as our blood tormented our genitals more than anything else.

If today, I would have been given the possibility to hang myself up either or live my whole life fighting for justice, I would choose to fight. Because it’s in my blood, I could not be somebody who would hide behind a mask and cry my hell out when the thing is, all it would give you nothing but even perpetuating sadness. This might sound something hypothetical when you know you are about to lose in the battle and have nothing to gain, but I must tell you something. Since the day I got raped, I had turned out to be a completely different woman than what I was before. Me, myself, and I: all three aspects of my inner self now only kept wandering about every possibility to seek justice. They did not wish any human interaction at this point except for purposes where they had to forcibly move through the edges, to achieve the necessary goal.

Since my heinous defloration, I have turned into a complete misandrist who hates men and every bit of their appearance in front of the eyes.  I do not seek any kind of emotions, intimacy, or even sympathy for them out of the disbelief and tragic experience I have gone through all my life. I hate them and till my death, I would keep hating them if not more... Because it’s the men who rape a woman and turn her life into shackles made out of ashes which would never cool down till the end of it all! Burning her inner soul for every single remaining second of her life is what the men do, and I have no sympathy for their existence on this planet anymore.

Many women commit suicide after being raped and Lavanya, my best friend was also one of them who was about to die but, was fortunately saved. She was nearly saved by her brother who was the only one with whom she could talk in her entire family, now. I still remember how petrified I was by the look of her condition, the day she was admitted to the hospital after being convicted with a heavy overdose of unprescribed drugs. The doctor told me that the patient needed mental support, but unfortunately was failing to receive it, eventually resulting in extreme complications and suicidal tendencies. I knew who was responsible for this and had no doubt why Lavanya’s