Today I reached school in quite a hassle, rendered by some premature consequences.

First, the animatic dreams which are pestering through my antique mid-night, unconscious, and relaxing phase; providing me a great deal of trauma. It is even harder to interpret the half-an-hour continuous ringing of my alarm, which before had at least some meaning of its existence.

Second, my mom was passed out lying perched like a half-dead corpse, after watching fifty episodes of a Thai- BL drama that has got her fixated almost dangling between the sofa and the floor. Well, she was pilling up her anticipated excitement for the past two and half months to watch this drama without any course of break that could have brought worse consequences thinking about her reactions for the next episode’s plot scenes that would leave her biting onto her nails for a whole week. However, I am quite amazed to see her determination to never make compromises when it comes to BL dramas. But, her overly excited and determined understatements cannot devoid the fact that I needed to make the tiffin for school. My school isn’t of some high rankings to be loaded with half-American cum India cum Chinese menu list hung around the canteen. A canteen doesn’t exist. 

Third, today Kuro was super, like totally, drowned with excitement. I caught such vibes from two miles across the ground, watching his tiny tail in vigorous motion which almost seemed to be unstoppable. I tried to avoid his existence and passed through the ground but, he was determined to show me something very precious he had found out recently. He gritted onto my skirt and pulled me down the ground to his very secret place, which is not a secret anymore. I watched his tail disappearing behind the bushes as I followed him behind, passing through the wood. Stepping out of the thick branches of the bushes with dry leaves all over my uniform, I saw a huge cardboard lying on the ground upon which a dog with white, fluffy fur and chestnut-colored nose, was standing with a broad chest and sharply pointed ears, almost like a wolf. The first question that darted in my mind was how he managed to do such arrangements. I was quite amazed. As I observed the dog’s features I immediately recognized her from the last day’s paparazzi crowd. Her glow is inevitably the brightest under the sunlight, sparkling with a  glace that looked like a coat of white snow on layers of firn with some shallow potions patched smoothly over her fur.

She is charismatic.

Kuro ran past my legs wagging his tail and nudged into her neck, sharing some cuddle-time. 

Well, looking at Kuro I realized that he was not less of a looker. He is the most handsome dog that I ever thought existed. He is brown, almost in the darker shade of ochre. His color is very rare, so is his friendly behavior. He is my jewel, the only friend who understands me better than any other human.

 Our friendship started with rivalry, a little bit of chaos, and a lot of disappointment. I loved making designer tree-pots with tricolor vibrant shades and arranged them in the garden under the sun. Kuro would sniff through the pots attracted by the floral scent of the paints and broke all my pots, ruining my three days of continuous hard work. I used many tricks to keep him away from my pots, like sprayed apple vinegar all around the table which at last made me lay down with allergies. I even hung the pots in ropes out of his reach but, it became a fun adventure for him to beat such challenges and show his pride. After that, he eventually gained some understanding and stopped jesting with my feelings. But, somehow I was pretty unsatisfied, I felt like missing a fun part of my life. Then I realized how we had already bonded a strange relation without even noticing, just an abstract thread of memory connecting our undiscovered feelings.

And today I needed to share him with someone else. It’s not like I felt sad or sickening but, the pushover smile was heartfelt, quite painful. I hugged them tightly in my arms and kissed them both on their foreheads. I almost felt like a mother. So optimistic.

It was almost fifteen minutes left for my school’s last ringing bell when I came to my senses. With such abounded realization I took the same secret pathway full of dangers, which has now become my typical roadway shortcut to school.

The prayer is already started, I slip in through the alleys and stood back at the last row of the Greenhouse.

Every day our school conducts a ten-pages long lecture on any kind of moral of our life. More than a knowledge it feels like torture on the students who need to stand for almost an hour under the nine o’clock's scorching heat of the sun. Today it seems even harder to relate to any words beckoned by our prestigious principal. Each letter seems to bond into a twist and scrabble into such words that hit harder than a bullet. In such a manner I hassle and jostle my legs and hands being extremely impatient to hear any more of such blabbering nonsense. The prayer sing by the crowd suddenly turns into a high-pitched shrieking tone that blacks out my vision in a channel of vibrations. As I push hard even harder to open even a small part of my eyelids, I see a hive of bees darting out in my direction. All I can do is to crouch down on my knees and cover my ears to save myself from the loud buzzing sound echoing in my ears, which at a point gets so intense that I scream out loud,” Save me!!!”

As everything turns into silence I opened my eyes and see the whole crowd staring back at me. I have nothing but a blank smile to cover such an embarrassing amount of guilt stirring up inside me.

~

I took my seat resting my head on my folding arms, being exhausted by the strange happenings of the day that affected me mentally as well as physically. I take a deep shy and look out of the window. The greenery around our school is the only thing that satisfies my need to be in this school. Even in the loud jostling noise of the classroom, the call of nature can be heard clearly, as if made just for me. The Rustling of leaves as the wind blows through the branches of trees and the chirping of birds, make it all so quiet and calm, a world that, never gets old. 

The class gets started, and the teacher makes an announcement,

“Students, today a new friend is going to join us. I hope everyone will co-operate and help her in need. 

Please come in.”

Hmm, a new student? It really doesn’t matter to me though, they all are the same whether a girl or a boy. No one ever showed any interest in me cause my likings never matched their wanting. So, keeping a distance seems to be the best way to avoid bullies. Friendship ruins everything, all your aims get manipulated under their control. Relationships are hard to keep on, so better never make one.

But, can this one be different?

Ha! Why am I so excited about it? No, no, nothing, it’s been long since a new student came, that must be the reason. 

Oh, the door opened, a boy or a girl?

Then, the moment came with a splash that turned my whole life into a new pattern of reminisce.

Heard about fantasies? How they create moments that blend you in memories, desires that compromise your beliefs and take you over your mind in such a way that you can never justify or find a true meaning of such feelings other than just feeling it.

The color of changing feelings that drips down my heart with space and time, slowly and gently flickering onto my wasteful desires, drowning my feelings with the heaviness of growing blood to my throat making it harder to pump out such thoughts that could control my heart from squeezing around my chest.

I press my hands on my chest to suppress such racing heartbeats which were so loud to be even heard outside.

She has long, black hair firmly tied with a bow. Wet strips of hair go unto her neck, long eyelashes, a slightly round nose, and a small face with firmly lined leaps. I have never seen a person like her. She is…

“Hi, I am Yuri. My family just transferred to India. So, I am not good at speaking Hindi other than the basic greetings. Please consider my current state, and speak with me in English. Hope to get along well. Thank you.”

Wow, her English fluency is great. That's amusing. Is she Japanese? My mother loves Japanese people, especially for their cosplays. So much, to even keep my name ‘Todoki'. I don’t have such overly fan-struck affection towards Japan except for their animation(my world). 

“Class dismiss, remember to complete your homework and co-operate well with Yuri.”

I think about talking with her to gain some surety of the misleading interruptions growing inside my heart. But, I saw some students gathering around her, questioning about her hometown. Crowd has never been my priority being caught up in nestled ego.

 Simply let it off. 

She is friendly, all over decent, and steady. Not the type to render greedy means. Every part of her being seems so complete and a believer of its existence. I have never observed a human so close, to suspense their thoughts finding possibilities to identify such wavering feelings, almost impossible to be recognized.

She turns her head setting a strip of hair behind her ear. Her earring sparks with a glow, that looked highlighting in the dark side of the room. Her eyelids move up to my level as I notice her iris settled on mine. I immediately lose my balance, as my hand slips on the table and I grab onto the nearby seat to settle myself on the high bench supporting my legs on the floor. The girls looked back at me with a laugh. I hesitate and pretend not to be noticed. When, I feel her long stare at me, not with a grin to make joke of my stupidity, but a loneliness that longed for its true meaning of existence. She looks obscured and mournfully consumed. I suddenly feel an ache at the corner of my heart that at last breaks the continuous stare of exchanging words, gotten but never grown just settled with our concern serving thoughts unreal.

I grab my backpack and hurried out of the class avoiding any eye contact. Resting my back on the outside of the classroom, I take a deep shy to finally release the uncertainty which was searching for a chance to discover a world just made for its being in imagination.

Feelings avoided, not disowned.