Chapter 1
Nanders rolls Adens in her arms. The grip gets tight turning into a kiss. The lips taking care of its other fellow. The P.T. teacher strikes and gets us to the principal office. What we see there are a bunch of threads alike collected on the ground as if someone pissed threads for 2-3 minutes. Slowly, each thread of N. Sir’s existence splits into just a regular thread. He was a confused person. He held a sense of administrative responsibilities which he failed to qualify by his actions. Fast forward, time was passing and we kissed harder this time. The sofa being our playground. Isn’t it breath-holding to do such a thing.
Adens moved forward with the regular dril-
——————————————————————————————————
Hey weirdo what are you doing? Hey, lemme read it. Akens snatched the paper from Adens hand and ran towards the door of the class. The paper crumbled in the way. He pressed in hard against the wall and started shouting the above letter. As the sentence ends, laughter echoes the floor followed by anger and hate in the sentence narration.
Nanders entered the class after meeting an upper-class-men and was faced with awkwardness developed by the piece of fiction. She immediately left the class with tears, running towards the bathroom- where 3 of her friends followed her.
Well, that ended up with Adens’ parents being ringed and were asked to show up at school. Both Nanders and Adens were taken to the principal office by N. Sir.
Well, the scenario was known yet hard to believe.
A bunch of thread-like structures was collected at various places. Suddenly, Natraj sir also gain the same configuration.
Nanders scream at the same moment. It felt like Beethoven’s 31st symphony.
We were encountered with a big figure on the wall, shaping like a WWE belt, instead it was way bigger and had Martin’s GOT opening face, both the sad and no-so-sad one.
The eyes and mouth glowed orange and soon the room was invaded by the light, blinding both of us for few seconds.
The principal asked, “ Kid, harboring such thoughts about a girl and expressing it on paper is not a very noble thing. Hey, are you even listening? She shouted being annoyed.
Yes ma’am, I answered reflexively with my forehead covering in sweat. The principal asked Nanders to decide what should I do with her. She answered with etiquettes.
“I am clearly uncomfortable with us being in the same section, Can you please make our section different”
My parents showed up and I was slapped at the moment for such behavior. Tears leaving my eyes, nose running wild and throat constantly choking on sweat. Yeah, embarrassment too. We departed home with an application for my suspension and a letter of section change.
The home was a lot of egos fighting to prove the superiority, things escalating to me being kicked out.
Honestly, I wanted to leave the place but almost the whole school resides in the same colony and the news spread like wildfire. And, I was the not-so-talkative type. I sat near the stairs and waited for the door to open. An hour later, the metal made noises. I was allowed to enter my ol’ sweet home again. And was demanded to plead to the principal to attend the school from tomorrow. My apology with tears made a scratch on her virtues of honor and she allowed it. The tears were merely an outlet of fear, to be honest.
The following 2 years weren’t half bad. Initially, it was hard as I was constantly threatened and bullied by classmates, upper-class men, and even lower-class men.
It was the near end when the smallest stick has been chosen and you have to play the game all along. I don’t want to play the game anymore. It was just so excluding and unfair. Maybe just leave the game.
The computer lab and the teacher beat some hope into me. He had an ideology that he used to shout throughout the class:
“Soil can be both a hurdle or a potter’s material. It depends on the wielder’s skills and perspectives.”
One day, a P.C. that was not used for a while was given to me or better, left for me. The windows was a mess. An ugly kite unable to fly with its end slitted into pieces. The keyboard was hard to communicate with. His ego reflected on his keys. Type one letter and he would misinterpret into another.
Anyways, I did the usual human shit. Refreshed it like 500 times. I was going to follow it by selecting the document icons and deleting them. But something weird happened. As I moved the mouse putting weight on the left click, the blue box was turning into another background. The same face that appeared on the principal office’s wall showed again. I didn’t wanted to bring any attention to myself, so I contained my surprise and fear. Simultaneously, a notepad appeared.
=============================================
ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE?
(Please type your question here?)
Q. …
Who are you?
Ans.. (condensing the data into simpler information, speed: Vis-shiv)
God..
-for the more detailed answers, please will you click here )
=============================================
As I clicked on there, the computer loaded countless information one after another, eventually heating up and the screen turning black. The computer was as hot as a cup of tea, just at the right temperature to drink, which isn’t something for the computer to celebrate.
Well, I didn’t see anything - I repeat internally - as I switch off the power supply.
The symbol made me curious. Something refreshing that unpleasant memory, well it was not imagination that time. Then did she saw that too?
I smiled like a pirate, whispering “ This secret shall not leave me, until my death.”
I went to the bathroom, locked the door, and started chanting Hanuman Chalisa.
