Shattered Reflections

Whispering shadows

"When the world seems dark and hands tremble, remember that your worth shines brighter than any setback."

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"90.1%"

the sound of the file closing made him shiver.

He slowly walked towards the teacher's table to submit the file with head hung low since he was afraid to meet eyes sparkling with disappointment. But his ears betrayed him , hearing words that shattered him from the inside.

"6th? What are you doing, Srish?"

He had no answer to this , all he did was fumble a few sorries.

Walking down the building , he was met with numerous pity and disappointment filled eyes. A small school with fast spreading rumours against a ninth grader who had skipped five final exams in eighth grade.

New-normal had broke him both physically and mentally , the anxiety inside decided to push him from the edge and he crumbled down. From a constant academic achiever he became temporary, he was now invisible. The sickness that had engulfed him in eighth grade was now slowly retreating back.

His cellphone was clutched in his hands as he blankly started at the group chats.

"94%"
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"93.6%"
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"93.5%"
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"93%"
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"92%"
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And his percentage lied there like a stone figure with no congratulations , he knew they were happy for themselves. He knew how their group worked, solely on academic scores. No matter how much they denied it but it was the bitter truth.

His face was buried in the pillow as tears trickled down his face , his ears picked up harsh and venomous words from his mother's throat. He knew they were stuck there and how they would be poured into him .

He didn't know how he was going to go to school the next day , everything had changed just in a blink of an eye. Was he never accepted for something other than that?

He was a blank canvas , open to all. Some chose to paint him in bright yellow and red while some chose to smudge black on him. He wasn't resistant but a keeper and yet he was called defected.

He was drowning in a ocean full of possibilities but everyone just walked out in a trance calling themselves a maze to his eyes.

They were never real , only a momentary happiness. Unfortunately, he was addicted and lonely. No matter how much he wanted to walk away, they held his hands with a strong grip. He wanted to soar higher in the sky but his wings were clipped by them so he could only pretend to be mute.

He felt lost , uncomfortable cause he was aware of the fact . About what happens when you slowly become an outcast and he was not ready for that yet. A lot has happened in his life and he has changed a lot too and somewhere in this process of changing he forgot to know himself. He was heedless towards his own choices and opportunities.

And then he walked inside the school building on Monday , with dark circles under his eyes. He settled in the farthest corner of the classroom and clicked his watch open , disliking the view of time. Srish drew out his favourite sketch book and began observing his environment with keen precision, the room buzzed with frenzied energy before assembly. He was early today , none from his group had arrived yet so peacefully he started drawing fading figure with free hand. Suddenly he felt a tap behind his back , it was his friend , Seth. He could barely look into his eyes so he reversed himself back to the sketch book.

"Are you ignoring me?" Seth asked, his voice tinged with a mix of hurt and frustration.

"No," Srish replied, his gaze fixed on his sketchbook.

"You clearly are," Seth persisted. "By the way, how much did you score?" Seth knew the answer already, but it seemed like he wanted to reopen the wound, to remind Srish once again that things had changed.

"With every passing minute, I feel the thorns growing," Srish muttered, his voice heavy with bitterness. "I'm becoming poisonous and toxic in my mind. I want them all to suffer, to feel the pain they've caused me."

As they stood in the assembly line, Srish kept his distance from the others, unable to bear the sight of the teachers praising and smiling at them. His eyes stung with unshed tears, and he couldn't bear to look.

"Why does it hurt so much?" Srish whispered to himself. "Others have done worse, so why does it feel like everything is killing me?" His eyes grew heavier with the weight of rejection and darkness.

As Srish sat quietly, engrossed in the Merchant of Venice workbook, he couldn't help but notice a difference in everyone's behavior. Even the teachers seemed to ignore his raised hand. It made him feel defeated and isolated. The weight of disappointment settled upon him, causing his hands to tremble involuntarily and his eyes to become red and teary.

In that moment, a voice broke through the silence, "Srish, I thought you would become first..." The words hit him like a dagger, intensifying his feelings of inadequacy. The world around him seemed to fade into darkness, and his vision blurred as tears filled his eyes.

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