The Girl of my Dreams

Jul 17, 2026

A traumatic car crash kills Shreyasi and leaves the narrator in a nightmarish, memory-suspended state. Eighteen months later, Daman wakes from recurring nightmares, suffers pain and injury scars, takes medication, avoids triggers, and searches for Shreyasi online without answers. His mother notices his distress as he relives guilt and the same fatal sequence in his dreams.

LanguageEnglish

CategoryStory & Novel

FormatPDF

Pages235

Reading Time6 h 2 min

AccessFree to download

DURJOY DATTA The Girl of my Dreams PENGUIN BOOKS PENGUIN BOOKS THE GIRL OF MY DREAMS Durjoy Datta was born in New Delhi, India, and completed a degree in engineering and business management before embarking on a writing career. His first book—Of Course ILove You!—was published when he was twenty-one years old and was an instant bestseller. His successive novels—Now That You ’re Rich!; She Broke Up, I Didn ’t!; Ohh Yes, IAm Single!; You Were My Crush; If It s’ Not Forever; Till the Last Breath ; Someone Like You; Hold My Hand; When Only Love Remains; Worlds’ Best Boyfriend; Our Impossible Love—have also found prominence on various bestseller lists, making him one ofthe highest-selling authors in India. Durjoy also has to his credit nine television shows and has written over a thousand episodes for television. Durjoy lives in Mumbai, loves dogs and is an active CrossFitter. For more updates, you can follow him on Facebook ([www.facebook.com/durjoydatta1or Twitter](www.facebook.com/durjoydatta1or Twitter) (@durjoydatta). 1 It happens in an instant andyet everything seems to stretch out interminably. One moment I’m gazing at her, that pale white face half covered with hair as black as night itselfis smiling at me, and the next I’m urging her to look at the road. The smiles on our faces die out. It s’ too late. A taxi is rushing towards us, driving on the wrong side. She swerves the car to the right to avoid collision and heads towards the divider railing. The taxi too swerves to its right. She corrects course, but it s’ too late. She slams on the brakes and the car makes a dying screech. Something breaks. She is thrown forward. There s’ no seat belt to slow her down as her face smashes against the steering wheel and bends like a half-formed clay mask. Her face scrunches, her jawline contorts, her teeth are knocked out. Her eyes protrude inhumanly. Blood spurts. Itfeels like I can reach out and hold her face but my hands move slowly through the air. I hear my own ribs snap like dry twigs against the impact ofthe seat belt. A shooting pain rises in my chest when the seat belt pushes me back. The world spins outside the windshield. Once. Twice. She is still smiling at me, her face turned at an awkward angle from the neck, her lips cut and bloody. Suddenly, the car flips over the railing and slams into a truck on the opposite side of road. A deathly silence descends. Time freezes. Pieces ofglass and tissue and teeth stay suspended mid-air, unmoving. Through the pain, I’m looking at her once-beautiful face, the face Ifell in love with, now a chaos ofblood, distended tissue, and shards ofbone and broken teeth. I reach outfor her face. It takes forever. And then a disquieting crunch fills the air. Metal against metal, bone against bone, bone againstflesh, flesh against metal. I’m thrown backward and forward. My legs twist and tangle. Ligaments snap, bones break. A jaggedpiece ofthe metal enters my thigh and comes outfrom the other side w

Jul 17, 2026

Uploaded by Ava Thompson