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THE ONE WITH THE TARGET

All Rights Reserved ©

Summary

Everyone thinks Class-IX is cursed. But curses don’t leave clues… murderers do. Every year, another student dies by suicide. People whisper that the classroom is jinxed. Haunted. Doomed. But when Lila—sunshine in human form and Suchitra Dam’s best friend—suddenly ends her life, Suchi knows something's off. Lila wasn’t depressed. She wasn’t secretive. She wasn’t done living. Now, the clock’s ticking, the bodies are stacking, and the town of Barishal is spiraling into panic. But Suchi? She’s not buying the curse story. She wants answers. And what she finds is a tangled web of manipulation, madness, and maybe… murder. As the trail points to an elusive predator hiding in plain sight, she must race to outwit a killer who always stays one step ahead. Is it a curse? A cult? A clever psychopath playing god? Or something even darker? One thing’s for sure—Class-IX isn’t cursed. It’s targeted.

Status
1yr ago
Chapters
10
Rating
4.8 (4 reviews)
Age Rating
16+

Chapter 1

" In a tragic turn of events, Anjumani Public School is once again mourning the loss of a young life. Arushi Hasanat, a 9th-grade student, was found deceased in her bedroom on February 14, 2024. This marks the 17th student suicide in Barishal within the past 5 years. Authorities are investigating the circumstances surrounding the death, but details remain limited at this time.

“A Valentine’s Day drama,” reported the school authorities. “This time is compassionate for teenage girls. Especially with high stakes of crushes and relationships,”

This latest tragedy has sent shockwaves through the community, raising serious concerns about the mental health of students in.......

CLICK

"They are replaying old news," muttered Aunt Sohini. "It was like last year, wasn't it Turjo?"

Suchi continued to stare at the TV, eyes widened in curiosity, hands occupied with the dirty pile of wet clothes as the tap water ran.

She knew what would happen. When Aunt Sohini muted the TV, this could only mean one thing.

“Suchi!” screamed Aunt Sohini, wreaking an earthquake in the neighborhood, proving her thoughts to be true. "The rice is burning on the stove. Where the hell are you?"

“I’m washing the clothes!” muttered Suchi, a solid lie she had practiced for a hundred times. But the tap water ran; the pile of dirty clothes abandoned in front of her.

You see, Suchi was a good liar. She was a master of fabricating lies that made sense.

She pretended to live a happy life with the Sikdars, pretended to wash clothes, pretended to act obedient, and pretended to have many friends (which in this case was partially true). But if you dare believe her, you might not understand the deeper part of herself, a part unknown to the whole world.

Believe me for this time--Suchi lied to survive.

“Suchi!” screamed Aunt Sohini, turning the volume on, and changing through the channels to see her favorite ad (she watched that boy in the soap ad hundred times a day). "Turn the stove off and filter the rice!"

Suchi ran towards the kitchen, the running tap water flooding the bathroom.

As she stepped into the kitchen, her hands trembled with a mix of panic and foolishness. In a split-second lapse, she reached for the pot of rice, her grip unsteady. The next thing she knew, the pot slipped from her hands, crashing to the floor with a deafening clatter. The sound echoed through the silence, like the first crack in a façade waiting to break apart.

“Ou-ou-ouch!”

She immediately turned the stove off, her hands red with the burn, the boiled rice scattered on the floor.

Instead of inventing another lie to make it seem normal, Suchi time traveled 6 and a half years back.

No, not now!

Not that fire again.

Not that scream.

Not that guilt and shame that blamed her for the little secrets every second.

"Did you throw it on the floor?" came Aunt Sohini's voice, sounding like a distant chatter in the loud noise of the TV, her favorite ad playing in circles on her favorite channel.

Suchi ignored her and opened the tap, held out her burnt hand with bristles, waiting for the cold water to release her pain and hide her little secret, hide her from the blame, save her from the shame.

“Suchi!” screamed Aunt Sohini, turning the TV off. “Water is flooding the floor. Just go and dry the clothes!”

“You have hands and legs. Go fetch it yourself!” muttered Suchi, washing another pot to cook the rice. “I’m not your personal AI,”

The house was swallowed by a suffocating silence, each second stretching longer than the last.

Suchi, being a know-it-all, knew that it wouldn’t last longer.

She settled another pot of rice on the stove and ran out of the kitchen, her noiseless footsteps tracing back to the other side of the old house.

She knew what was coming.

“Can’t believe it!” shrieked Aunt Sohini, turning the tap off. "Your whole family is dead and you are alive, like a magical child?"

“Why couldn’t you burn in the flames?"

Suchi took two steps at a time, her heart aching with the words. The ladder to her room hanged, as noiseless as her. She continued to climb it.

Don’t worry, Suchi never cared about it. Or was it one of her little tricks to pretend?

“Look at me--poor me!” muttered Aunt Sohini, banging some pots on the floor, sending a vibration throughout the kitchen. “Has been raising this moron for 7 years!”

'It's been 6 years, you blithering idiot!' thought Suchi, in the 4 walls of her mind.

Suchi searched for her keys, her feet on the last rope of her loose ladder. Before she could pretend not to notice, Aunt Sohin’s eyes met hers.

“Hey, where the hell are you going?” shrieked Aunt Sohini.

“T-to a-apply som--”

“You get down!”

Suchi got down, her finger intertwined on the keys, her hopes vanishing away as she pretended to be sad.

No, she was angry. She was angry as hell. If she wasn't afraid of fire, she could have burnt this house with her glare.

DING-DONG

Aunt Sohini’s gaze immediately settled on the door, returning back to normal. Now, it was her time to pretend how well she treated Suchi.

“Coming!” shouted Turjo, running down the floor, his steps quick and enthusiastic. “Arav!”

The door opened, revealing a boy of the same height as Suchi’s cousin, Turjo Sikdar.

“Make tea for him,” whispered Aunt Sohini, pretending to smile. “And do prepare some snacks. I'll be next doors,”

Aunt Sohini, strode out of the house, leaving behind the scared-faced Arav. He was her friend Lila's brother and at the same time, her cousin's friend.

Arav cast an awkward Namashkar to Suchi before disappearing into Turjo’s room, leaving the house deserted again, quiet as before. Tanisi must have been outside.

“Suchi, bring the tea!” shrieked another voice, similar to Aunt Sohini.

No, she was inside, all ready to make her life hell.

Suchi pretended to ignore that her younger cousin never cared to call her ‘Didi' and punished her in the realms of her fantasy.

She ran towards the kitchen, made a pot of tea, and pretended to chop something and leave the remains in the kitchen. She was in no mood to make something for them.

“Suchi, where’s the tea?”

Tanisi had made it to the kitchen, her feet dangling on the floor, a mysterious smile playing on her lips.

“As I’ve said a thousand times, Tanisi,” said Suchi, settling the cups on a small tray. “I’m not your fucking AI,”

“Can you solve my homework?” asked Tanisi, taking the tea from the tray.

“Yes, I can,” said Suchi. “But I won’t,”

“That’s why you are a bad AI,”

Tanisi took a cup from the tray and left the kitchen, the smell of Suchi’s high-leakered-Sreenmangal tea fresh in the air.

Suchi made her way to the room, her blistered hands suddenly painful. But she pretended to not care; added to her list of things she had to pretend.

“Your tea,” muttered Suchi, keeping a distance from the room.

“Why can’t you come in?” said Turjo.

Suchi entered the room, the smell of fresh ink had combined to form a different smell as she kept the tray on the table.

“This essay looks poorly written,” said Arav, glancing at the cup of tea as he, too pretended to write something. “Lacks proper uses of English words,”

Suchi passed the cup to Arav who took it gratefully and was about to hand it to her cousin when her painful hands suddenly turned shaky.

The tea fell on the paper, staining it, and hiding the complicated Bengali letters within.

“You fucking bitch!” shrieked Turjo, shoving the papers on the ground. “What the fuck have you done!”

“I-I am cleaning it up!” muttered Suchi, kneeling to get a cloth.

“How stupid of you!” shrieked Turjo. “Do you know how much that writing cost me?”

Turjo picked up the cup and turned to Suchi, glaring at her.

“H-hey!”

Arvi got up, casting a closer look at the paper.

“Weren’t those Arishiya’s?” asked Arvi.

“N-no!” said Turjo, ready to smash the cup on Suchi. "First, Let me deal with this girl,”

“Leave her alone,” said Arvi, not as loud as the Sikdar family but strong enough to make Suchi stop pretending to ignore him. “She is a human. She is your cousin,”

“Stop mingling with our matter, Arav,” shrieked Turjo. “Write the essay and fuck off!”

But Arvi didn’t move an inch.

“Not until you keep the cup off your hands!”

Turjo glared at Suchi, his eyes cold and tyrant.

“Okay, just get out of my room.”

Suchi ran out of the room, tears in her eyes, ready to smash every fucking thing in this house and do anything to protect her gut, the home to her little secrets.

Let Sapto Mitra know what you thought about this chapter!
Love this

5

Love this

Funny

1

Funny

Spicy

0

Spicy

Suspenseful

2

Suspenseful

Emotional

4

Emotional

Profound

0

Profound

Heartwarming

2

Heartwarming

Shocking

1

Shocking

Good Writing

0

Good Writing

Compelling Plot

1

Compelling Plot

Great Character

1

Great Character

Strong Dialog

4

Strong Dialog

author

The secrets will kill her, I bet

2 years
2
author

suchi is quite detached. I wonder what else she's hiding...

a year
1

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