Challenging The Fate

Chapter 3

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'Life is ten percent what you experience and ninety percent how you respond to it.'

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The morning sun enters through the curtains, casting a soft glow in the boy's room. He stirs from his sleep, rubbing his eyes as he glances at the clock. Panic sets in when he realizes he's running late for school. Quickly, he puts his legs out of bed, glancing over at his grandmother who appears to be peacefully asleep.

"Maa," he calls out, his voice filled with the innocence of a child. "It's time to wake up!"

There's no response. Assuming she's just tired, he decides to let her sleep a bit longer and tiptoes to the bathroom to freshen up.

Minutes later, he returns, towel-draped hair and school uniform in place, ready to wake his grandmother.

With a mischievous smile, he gently nudges her, "Hey, sleepyhead, it's time for breakfast." Still met with silence, his expression changes from playful to concerned.

He shakes her more vigorously, the worry evident in his eyes. " Mahi maa? Are you okay?" A growing unease settles in as he realizes she's not at all responsive. Panic begins to take hold as he frantically tries to wake her up, his innocent attempts turning into desperate pleas.

"Come on, Maa, this isn't funny anymore!" he cries out, his voice cracking. The truth dawns on him, and he sits frozen, unable to comprehend the reality unfolding before him. Tears well up in his eyes as he clings to the hope that this is just a bad dream. In an outburst of grief, he collapses beside her, sobbing uncontrollably, unable to accept the profound loss that has shattered his world.

The boy sits beside his mother's lifeless body, a heavy weight on his young shoulders. He gazes at her, his eyes swollen from tears, and begins to speak softly, as if trying to grasp the reality that now surrounds him.

"Ma..mahi maa," he whispers, his voice trembling with a mixture of grief and disbelief.

"How am I supposed to do this wit..without you? Who will listen to my sil..silly stories and laugh at my jokes? Who will make my favorite food just the way you do?" He pauses, a lump forming in his throat.

He glances around the room, the familiar surroundings now seemingly foreign without his grandmother's comforting presence. "And those b..bullies at school," he continues, his voice gaining a hint of determination. "Who will help me face them, huh!? You always knew how to make things better. Now, it's just me against the world."

"I don't know how to do this al..alone," he admits, his voice breaking. "Who will guide me through the toug...tough times? Who will be there to wipe away my tears and tell me everything will be oka-okayy?"

He takes a shaky breath, struggling to find the strength to continue. "I don't want to be alone, Maa. But I promise, I'll try...I'll try to be strong like you taught me. I'll face those bullies, make my own food, and find a way to live in this world  without you. But it hurts so so muchhh."

The boy sits in a daze, his eyes vacant, as the reality of his only family's passing settles around him like a heavy fog. The world seems to move in slow motion, and he's unable to focus on the tasks at hand. His neighbors, sensing his numbness, step in to take care of the responsibilities he can't bear to face.