Ravya POV

I sat silently on the mandap, the weight of my bridal lehenga pressing down on me like a thousand bricks. The red and gold fabric sparkled under the lights, but I felt anything but beautiful. I felt like a decorated prisoner.

The chants of the priest blurred into the background. My heart was thudding so loud, I couldn’t hear anything else. My fingers clutched the edge of my dupatta tightly, trying to stop them from shaking.

I didn’t want this.

Not this marriage. Not this man.

I turned slightly and looked at him—Kabir Mehta. My so-called husband-to-be. Dressed in a cream sherwani, with a smirk that never left his lips, he looked like the ideal groom in everyone’s eyes. But I’d seen what others hadn’t.

The way his eyes darkened when someone disagreed with him. The way he once caught my wrist too tightly, leaving behind faint bruises and a fake apology. The way his words dripped with control, not love.

“Mumma, please,” I had begged two nights ago, tears streaming down my face, “I don’t want to marry him. Something feels wrong.”

But she had only cupped my face, brushing my tears away. “Beta, he’s a good match. You’ll grow to love him. Every girl is scared before her wedding.”

No one had listened. Not Mumma. Not Papa. Not even Dadi, who usually understood me without words.

And now… it was too late.

“Put your hand forward, beti,” the priest instructed gently.

I obeyed like a robot. Kabir tied the mangalsutra around my neck and smeared the sindoor in my hair. The crowd clapped. The women whispered about how pretty I looked, how lucky I was. I smiled weakly, pretending not to hear the sound of my own soul breaking.

The wedding was over. The rituals done.

I was now Ravya Mehta.

The name itself felt foreign. Like a mask I was forced to wear.

We arrived at his house late at night. A massive bungalow with shining marble floors, chandeliers, and cold, silent walls. People welcomed me with aarti and fake smiles. My feet stepped into the house, but my heart refused to follow.

Everyone eventually left, and I was guided to the bedroom. My new bedroom.

It was filled with rose petals and candles. Romantic, they said. Magical.

But to me, it felt like a trap.

I sat at the edge of the bed, my dupatta covering my head, my hands resting in my lap. My heartbeat quickened as the door creaked open.

Kabir walked in.

He locked the door.

I looked up at him, my throat dry. “Kabir… I’m tired. Can we just sleep tonight?”

He chuckled. “Tired? The night just started, sweetheart.”

I stood up quickly, backing away slightly. “Please… I don’t feel comfortable—”

“Comfortable?” His tone changed. The smirk was gone. “You’re my wife now. This is your duty, Ravya.”

“No, please just… listen to me. I need time. I didn’t even want this marriage—”

He stepped forward and grabbed my arm, hard. “What did you just say?”

I winced. “Kabir, you’re hurting me—”

“You think you can deny me? After all the drama your parents did to get this alliance fixed?”

His words hit like a slap. He pushed me onto the bed. My body froze, panic rising in my chest like fire.

“Don’t do this,” I whispered, tears running down my face. “Please, Kabir. Please don’t…”

But he didn’t listen.

He wasn’t a husband. He was a monster.

"L..leave me.. hel...help"

I screamed. I begged. I cried.

And then, everything went dark.

So, I had seen there were many comments on my reel that "wtf", "The fvck is this", "You're promoting s£x"..... Many more!! Let me clear one thing first, I'm not promoting s£x or r@pe. I'm also a girl I also felt bad for those who felt in this way. I'm just writing the perspective of those girl's who got married without there wish and got martial r@pe on their first night or maybe on every day and night. Now you'll thing how I know this?? So there's a girl in my neighbour, she got married in November without her wish, her parents forced her in the marriage. She used to share with me, she told me she don't wanna married but her parents are not listening to her and as well i also can't do anything. Then she got married and you'll know after marriage the bride come her home as some rituals. When I went to meet her, she couldn't even walk properly, she was all silent, I asked for some privacy from her mother's and mama's children's and when they'll left. She cried so much and was rubbing her skin saying that her husband r@ped her without her consent, she was begging but he didn't listen to her. You guy's will not believe her breast was so sore and swallow, even in her clothes she was feeling so much pain... So before commenting nonsense please think about others.

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