Ch.31 4. HIS RUTHLESS CLAIM - Indian short stories

Inaya pov

I woke up and looked at my alarm clock. "Oh no! I set it for the wrong time. I'm going to be late for practice!" I quickly got out of bed, changed into my practice clothes, tied my hair into a bun, and put on my shoes. I grabbed my water bottle and ran outside to my car, still feeling a little sleepy but in a rush.

When I got in and tried to start the car, it wouldn't start. I tried turning the key again, but nothing happened. "Oh, come on, not now!" I muttered, frustrated. I slapped my forehead, groaning, "This is the worst. I'm going to get into so much trouble. Coach is definitely going to punish me!"

Left with no choice, I jumped out of the car, and started running toward the practice ground. The streets were still quiet, and the cool morning breeze hit my face as I ran. My thoughts were racing as fast as my feet.

"Why didn't I check the car last night? How could I mess up so badly? Coach is going to make me run extra for this, or worse, sit out of practice entirely!" I muttered to myself, trying to keep up my pace.

The ground wasn't too far, but it felt like miles because of the pressure. I kept checking my watch, each minute feeling like a warning of what was waiting for me.

I kept running, my kit bag bouncing on my shoulder. The ground was a little uneven, and suddenly, I tripped and fell hard onto the pavement. "Ouch," I muttered, wincing as I sat up. My palms were scratched, and I could feel the dirt on my clothes.

I looked down to see what had happened and noticed my shoelaces had come undone. "Of course," I sighed, shaking my head. That's why I fell.

Slowly, I got up, brushing off the dirt from my clothes. My knees hurt a little, but I didn't have time to sit around. I bent down, tied my shoelaces tightly this time, and made sure they wouldn't come loose again.

"Great, now I'm even late," I muttered under my breath. Slinging the kit bag back onto my shoulder, I started running again.

The ground wasn't too far now, but every step felt heavier. My legs burned as I kept up the pace. Ten minutes of straight running later, I finally saw the practice ground ahead of me. Letting out a relieved sigh.

When I finally reached the ground, I was completely out of breath. My shirt was slightly damp from sweat, and my legs ached from running all the way here. I stopped for a moment, leaning forward to catch my breath. Some of my teammates were batting in the nets, others were bowling, and a few were fielding near the boundary. Everyone was focused and into their practice.

My heart sank. "Great, they've already started,". I scanned the ground, my eyes darting around to see if the coach had noticed my late arrival. For a moment, I couldn't spot him, but then I saw him standing near the boundary line, deep in conversation with a few other players.

I felt a small wave of relief. He's busy... maybe I can sneak in without him realizing how late I am. I thought, trying to steady my breathing. I carefully made my way to the side, keeping my movements quiet and casual, hoping to blend in.

When I reached the spot where we usually keep our gear, I quickly dropped my kit bag on the ground. My hands fumbled a bit as I opened it, pulling out my bat and helmet. I didn't want to waste a single second.

With my bat in one hand and my helmet in the other, I glanced around one last time. The coach was still occupied, thankfully, and my teammates were too focused on their drills to notice me sneaking in.

I took a deep breath, adjusted my helmet, and gripped my bat tightly. "Okay, just act normal. Pretend like nothing's wrong," I told myself. Without making any more noise, I headed straight to the nets.

The sound of the ball hitting the bat echoed around me as I stepped into the practice area. I nodded at the bowler waiting to deliver and got into position. "Time to focus and make up for lost time," I thought, ready to face the first ball.

After two intense hours, practice finally came to an end. I walked out of the nets feeling completely drained, my body aching from all the running and batting. My shirt clung to me from sweat, and my legs felt like they were carrying weights with every step.

I grabbed my towel from my kit bag and sat down on the bench nearby, letting out a long sigh of relief. As I rubbed the sweat off my face and neck, I reached for my water bottle and took a few big gulps.

While I was catching my breath, a couple of my teammates walked over to me. They were already packing up their gear and seemed ready to leave.

"Hey, you coming with us?" one of them asked, slinging her bag over his shoulder.

I shook my head, offering a tired smile. "Nah, you guys go ahead. My legs are killing me after all that running and practice. I don't think I can walk too far right now."

One of them laughed and patted me on the shoulder. "Alright, rest up then. See you tomorrow!"

"Yeah, see you," I replied as they waved and headed off, leaving me alone on the bench. I watched them disappear down the road, my body too sore to even consider moving just yet. For now, I just wanted to sit there, enjoy the quiet, and let the exhaustion fade away.

The cool breeze felt good on my face as I leaned back, closing my eyes for a moment. That's when I sensed someone standing in front of me. I opened my eyes to see my coach, his arms crossed, looking at me with a serious expression.

"You were late today," he said firmly, sitting down beside me on the bench.

I immediately stood up, feeling a wave of nervousness. "Coach, I'm really sorry. My alarm didn't go off, and to make it worse, my car wouldn't start. I had to run all the way here," I explained quickly, hoping he'd understand.

He didn't say much, just nodded slightly. Then, in a calm tone, he said, "Come into the dressing room. I need to talk to you." Without waiting for a response, he got up and walked toward the dressing room.

I stood there, confused and a little anxious. Why does he want to talk to me in the dressing room. I triedg to figure out what this could be about. Did I do something wrong? Was this about being late?

After a few moments of overthinking, I decided to go inside. My heart was racing as I walked toward the dressing room door. Pushing it open, I stepped inside and looked around.

But he wasn't there. The room was empty. I frowned, taking a step forward. That's when I heard the soft creak of the door behind me. I turned around quickly and saw him standing there, his hand on the door.

He closed it slowly, and for a moment, there was only silence.

The moment I felt his hands on my shoulders, pressing them lightly, I froze.

"What are you doing, coach?" I asked.

He didn't reply. Instead, his hands slid down my arms, and I jerked away, trying to push him. But his grip tightened, making me feel trapped.

"Let me go!" I said loudly, my voice trembling.

He smirked. "Relax, I'm just helping you to relax" he said casually, as if nothing was wrong.

I shook my head and pulled myself away with all the strength I had. Somehow, I managed to slip out of his grip. My heart pounded in my chest as I moved toward the door.

"Stop running," he called behind me, his voice calm yet chilling.

But I didn't listen. I kept running until I felt his hand grab my shirt from behind. The sound of the fabric tearing startled me, but I didn't stop. I finally found a corner to hide behind a wall, gasping for air, my mind racing.

For a moment, I thought I had escaped. But then, I heard slow, steady footsteps.

"You can't hide from me," his voice echoed as he stepped closer.

Peeking around the corner, I saw him smiling. His calm, confident demeanor only made me feel more afraid.

"Why are you doing this?" I yelled, trying to sound braver than I felt.

"You're special," he said, his smile growing wider. "I just want to talk. That's all."

I clenched my fists. "Leave me alone!"

He chuckled softly, taking another step closer. "You can't keep running, you know."

Before I could react, he grabbed my hand and pushed me against the wall. His body was too close to mine, and I felt trapped. His hand slid under my torn shirt, touching me in ways that made me feel sick.

I tried to push him away, but he was too strong. His other hand held my wrist so tightly that I could feel my skin burning. My wrist was turning red from how hard he was gripping it.

"Coach, please don't do this!" I begged, tears already streaming down my face. "I respect you so much. Please stop!"

But he didn't care. He slapped me hard across the face, and my head hit the wall lightly from the force.

"You don't have anyone in your life," he said, his voice cold and emotionless. "Why don't you stay with me? No one's going to care what happens to you."

His words hurt more than the slap. I shook my head, tears falling even faster. "Please, just let me go," I whispered, my voice shaking.

Instead of letting me go, he leaned in and started kissing me in places he shouldn't. I turned my face away and kept trying to push him back, but he wouldn't stop.

"Stop it!" I yelled, my voice breaking.

He just laughed, like my struggle amused him.

I panicked. Using all the strength I had, I kicked him as hard as I could in the stomach. He stumbled back, groaning in pain. I thought I was free, but before he could fall completely, he grabbed my already torn jersey.

The force of him falling pulled my jersey off my body, leaving me standing there in my bra.

I froze in shock, trying to cover myself with my arms, but he just sat there on the floor, laughing at me.

"You look scared," he said, smirking. His laugh sent chills down my spine.

I was shaking, tears running down my face, but I didn't say anything. I just wanted to get out of there.

He picked up my torn jersey from the ground and brought it close to his face. He sniffed it, his eyes looking at me like I was some kind of prize.

"You smell so good," he said with a twisted smile.

I backed away slowly, my heart racing, hoping I could find a way to escape. "Stay away from me!" I screamed, but my voice was weak and shaky.

He stood up, still holding my jersey. "You can try to run," he said, his voice calm but threatening, "but you'll come back to me. You'll see."

Before I could move, he pushed me down to the ground. I tried to get up, but he was too strong. He quickly unbuckled his belt, the sound sending a chill through me.

"Stop! Please stop!" I screamed. My voice was shaking, but I shouted as loud as I could. "Somebody, please help me!"

He laughed, a cold, terrifying sound. "There's nobody here," he said, his voice filled with confidence. "Scream all you want, but no one is coming. You're mine now."

My heart was racing as he continued, "This coach is going to train you differently." His words made my skin crawl.

He threw his belt aside, unzipped his pants, and grabbed my head, pulling me closer toward him.

I panicked. My eyes darted around the room, desperately looking for anything to defend myself. That's when I saw a cricket bat lying nearby.

Summoning all the courage I had, I grabbed the bat and swung it as hard as I could at his legs.

He screamed in pain and fell to the ground, clutching his legs.

"You bitch...." he started to yell, but I didn't wait to hear the rest. I dropped the bat and ran as fast as I could toward the other door in the dressing room.

As I ran out of the dressing room, panic consumed me. My chest was heaving, and tears blurred my vision. Then it hit me, I was only in my bra.

I stopped for a moment, looking around frantically. My hands instinctively tried to cover myself, but it wasn't enough. I felt so exposed, and the fear of someone seeing me like this made my heart race even more.

That's when I remembered my kit bag. It was on the bench near the field. Without wasting another second, I ran toward it, my bare feet hitting the ground hard.

When I reached the bag, my hands shook as I unzipped it. I quickly pulled out my jacket and threw it on, zipping it up all the way to cover myself.

Even though I was covered now, I still felt vulnerable and scared. My hands wouldn't stop shaking, and my breathing was shallow. But I knew I couldn't stay there any longer.

I grabbed my bag and ran as fast as I could, not looking back, desperate to get away from that nightmare. My only thought was to find safety and someone who could help me.

Suddenly, my alarm rang, pulling me out of my sleep. I sat up quickly, gasping for air, my heart pounding in my chest. My shirt was damp with sweat, and I struggled to calm down.

This nightmare. It's been haunting me for three years now. Every time I think I'm getting better, it comes back, pulling me into the same fear and pain all over again.

It wasn't just a dream. It was real. Three years ago, that incident happened to me, and I've never been able to forget it. That was the day I made a decision: I would stop playing cricket. The sport I loved more than anything had suddenly become a reminder of something I wanted to erase from my memory.

But deep down, I knew I couldn't give it up. Cricket was my dream, my passion, and the one thing that made me feel alive. So, instead of quitting, I decided to leave that city and move far away.

I didn't have much keeping me there anymore. My family... they died in a car accident when I was younger. Since then, I've been alone. That's why my coach thought he could take advantage of me that day because he knew I had no one to stand up for me or protect me.

Now, I'm 22 years old. Despite everything I went through, I didn't let it break me. I worked harder than ever, and just recently, I made my debut for the Indian cricket team. It was a moment I had dreamed of for years, and scoring well in my first match felt like a small victory not just in the game but in my life.

Things are different now. Our team has a woman coach, and for the first time in a long time, I feel safe. I don't have to constantly look over my shoulder or worry about being vulnerable.

But no matter how far I've come, that day still lingers in my mind. The nightmares remind me of what I've been through, but they also remind me of how strong I've become. I've survived, and I'll keep going, no matter what.

Right now, our team is on a break. We've been given some time off because we recently won the Champions Trophy. It's a huge achievement, and everyone is still so happy about it.

I'm the youngest player in the team, so my teammates treat me really well. They've always been kind and supportive, and it feels nice to have that bond with them.

Most of them are on vacation now, spending time with their husbands or boyfriends. They deserve it after all the hard work we've done together. But I didn't feel like going anywhere. I came back home instead.

Being here gives me a sense of peace. It's quiet, and I can just be by myself. Ever since that incident three years ago, I've avoided stepping out unless it's for cricket. Crowded places or unfamiliar situations make me feel anxious, so I prefer staying home where I feel safe.

This house may feel empty without my family, but it's still mine. It's the one place where I don't have to pretend everything is okay. Here, I can take a breath, reflect, and just be.

Sometimes, I wonder if I'll ever feel normal again. But then I remind myself how far I've come, and that keeps me going. For now, I'm just grateful for this break and the comfort of being home.

In a month, we have the Women's IPL, and I can't wait for it. This league has grown so much over the years it's no less exciting or popular than the men's IPL now. The audience for women's cricket has increased so much, and the fan support is incredible.

It makes us all so proud to see how far women's cricket has come. People are finally recognizing our talent and hard work. We're no longer just compared to the men's team we're standing on our own, as equals. That thought alone fills my heart with happiness and pride.

But with the league so close, I can't afford to relax any longer. I've had a good break, but now it's time to get back to work. I need to start practicing soon so I'm ready to perform at my best when the league begins.

So, starting tomorrow, it's back to the nets and training sessions. I'm excited, determined, and ready to give it everything I've got.

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