Beyond The Veil : The Truth about Everything

The classroom was louder than usual.

Everyone was talking at once—laughing, shouting, comparing marks. It was results day, and for most of them, it felt like something worth celebrating.

I just sat there, holding my paper.

I didn’t need to look at it again. I already knew how badly I had done.

Around me, people were smiling like everything had gone right. Friends were calling out to each other, sharing their marks, making plans. The noise blended into one continuous hum.

For me… it felt different.

Like everything had moved forward—

and I hadn’t.

I’ve never really been the kind of person people notice.

I don’t talk much. I don’t stand out. I’ve always just existed in the background, unnoticed, unimportant. And over time, I got used to it.

It stopped bothering me.

Or at least… I thought it did.

So when someone suddenly stopped in front of my desk, I assumed they had the wrong person.

“Hey…”

I looked up.

For a moment, my mind went blank.

She was from my class. Of course she was. I had seen her almost every day since kindergarten.

But we had never spoken.

Not once.

“Pradeep, right?”

I nodded, a little too quickly.

My voice didn’t come out.

She smiled. It wasn’t anything special—just a normal smile. But for some reason, it felt unfamiliar. Like something I wasn’t used to seeing directed at me.

“I just wanted to talk to you for a second.”

I didn’t know how to respond, so I didn’t.

She didn’t seem to mind.

“I’m leaving,” she said.

That made me actually look at her.

“My family’s moving abroad. I just found out recently.”

For a moment, the noise in the classroom felt distant. Like it had been pushed somewhere far away.

I didn’t understand why she was telling me this.

Out of everyone here…

why me?

“I’ve been telling everyone,” she continued. “All my friends.”

There was a small pause.

Then she looked at me again.

“And… I wanted to tell you too.”

Something about that didn’t make sense.

I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t.

“I know we never really talked,” she said, her voice softer now. “But I’ve always noticed you.”

That made something in my chest tighten.

“You’re always quiet,” she added. “But you’re not… invisible.”

Invisible.

The word stayed with me.

She gave a small, almost awkward smile.

“I just thought… I should’ve talked to you sooner.”

I didn’t know what to do with that.

No one had ever said something like that to me before.

“Anyway…” she stepped back slightly, “I just wanted to say goodbye.”

Goodbye.

I should’ve said something.

Anything.

But all I managed was—

“Oh…”

She smiled again, then turned and walked away.

Just like that.

And for some reason…

everything felt different.

I didn’t stay in the classroom for long after that.

There wasn’t really a reason to.

Everyone was still busy talking, laughing, making plans. A few people had already gathered around her, probably saying their goodbyes properly.

The way normal people do.

I didn’t go.

I just picked up my bag and walked out quietly.

No one noticed.

The corridor felt strangely calm compared to the noise inside.

For a moment, I just stood there, not really sure what I was supposed to do next.

Her words kept replaying in my head.

“I’ve always noticed you.”

I don’t know why that mattered so much.

It shouldn’t have.

But it did.

By the time I stepped outside the school gate, most people had already grouped up.

Some were walking together. Some were waiting near the entrance. A few were already talking about going somewhere after this—food, maybe a last meet before she leaves.

I walked past all of them.

No one stopped me.

No one called my name.

That part… felt normal.

The walk home wasn’t long.

I’ve done it so many times that I don’t even think about the route anymore. My legs just move on their own.

But today felt different.

Not in a big way.

Just… quieter.

When I reached home, the front door wasn’t locked.

I pushed it open slowly.

The house was silent.

I stepped inside and closed the door behind me, careful not to make too much noise.

My mom was asleep on the sofa.

She looked tired.

I stood there for a second, just looking at her.

Then I quietly walked past and went to my room.

I dropped my bag near the table and changed my clothes without thinking much.

Same routine.

Same movements.

Nothing new.

I grabbed a can of juice from the kitchen, came back, and picked up my laptop.

My mouse was still on the table where I left it.

Headset too.

I sat down, put it on, and opened a game.

The screen lit up.

Bright.

Loud.

Alive.

For a while… everything else just faded away.

No classroom.

No results.

No people.

No thoughts.

Just the game.

Just something I could control.

Somewhere outside, people were probably still together.

Laughing.

Talking.

Making memories.

Maybe she was there too.

Saying proper goodbyes.

I didn’t think about it for long.

I just kept playing.

I don’t usually play with anyone.

It’s easier that way.

No talking. No expectations. No explaining anything.

Just me and the screen.

A notification popped up.

Friend Request.

I stared at it for a second.

I almost ignored it.

I usually do.

But I didn’t this time.

I don’t know why.

Maybe I just didn’t feel like being alone right then.

I accepted it.

A few seconds later, another notification appeared.

Co-op Invite.

I hesitated again.

Then clicked accept.

The match started.

At first, I didn’t really pay attention to the other player.

I just played like I always do.

Quiet.

Focused.

Blank.

They were good.

Better than most random players I usually get matched with.

We didn’t talk.

No voice chat.

No messages.

Just… playing.

For a moment, it felt… normal.

Like I wasn’t completely alone.

Then I died.

It was a stupid mistake.

I didn’t even react.

I just stared at the screen while my character respawned.

A message popped up.

“You okay?”

I blinked.

I didn’t reply.

Another message came almost immediately.

“You seem tired.”

I frowned slightly.

Then—

“You just got back from school, right?”

My hand froze on the mouse.

For a second, I thought I read it wrong.

I looked at the message again.

Same words.

No mistake.

A strange feeling settled in my chest.

Not fear.

Not yet.

Just… confusion.

I didn’t remember telling anyone anything.

I hadn’t even spoken.

I typed slowly.

“How do you know that?”

There was a short pause.

Long enough to feel… uncomfortable.

Then the reply came.

“Just a guess.”

I stared at the screen.

Something about it didn’t feel like a guess.

I didn’t ask anything else.

I didn’t say anything.

We kept playing.

But after that…

it didn’t feel the same.