My father had already taken away my phone and he put my sim card in his own phone. He sent a message to my university WhatsApp group. He sent a message to my university WhatsApp group, announcing that anyone could call me, all so he could talk to them and manipulate them. He deceived many of my classmates by talking to them as me.
Soon, someone called my phone. It was Rajrupa Bhattarcharjee, an old classmate. My father brought his phone to me. I answered, my voice trembling, with him looming over me like a shadow. I managed to speak out the truth “My parents have beaten me, tied me up, and drugged me.” But before Rajrupa could respond, he ripped the phone from my hands. My chance to scream for help was gone.
He forced Rajrupa to talk to my mother instead, as if that would erase my words. Later, he taunted me, saying, “Lots of your classmates want to talk to you.” He promised I would get five minutes with each, like some twisted game show. But it was all a lie. No one else called. No one else heard my voice.
Then, with a smirk, he shoved his phone in my face. A screenshot was on the screen, a transaction of 50,000 rupees from my Punjab National Bank account to States Bank of India account. It was his attempt to show me the control he has on my bank accounts and on my life.
