- enemies, enemies and enemies -

Jahnavi Singh Rathore.

I survived 18 years.

18 birthdays.

But this one? It's the first birthday after I lost dad. I thought how different can this be? I would just spent it just as any other day. Looks like, it only reminds me more of him. I try to brush off the feeling.

I planned on sleeping till noon, but my eyes shot open at 4 and then I couldn't fall asleep again. I close the door, walking down to the ground floor.

"Aren't you going to school?" Kiara asks, her eyes drowsy and almost ready to leave to the school. I nod, serving myself the breakfast.

"Why?" She asks.

"I just don't want to." I shrug.

"What?" She turns to her mom,"Maa, can I also not go? I feel really tired!" She requests. Her mom glares at her,"Shut up, she doesn't bunk school like you do. And it's her birthday today. Just let her have the day."

Kiara's eyes widen,"It's your birthday today?"

I nod, wanting to end the conversation.

"Oh.umm, Happy birthday." She wishes, an awkward smile on her face.

Wow, this is so awkward,"Thanks."

"Happy Birthday baccha."

I smile, muttering a small thanks and quickly escaping from there after finishing my breakfast. I lock myself in my room for next few hours, that's till the lunch. At the afternoon, I dress up in black hoodie, tie up my hair and pull the hood over my face.

Thankfully no one notices me when I leave. I grab the keys of Sedan Bentley, one of the cars my mom owns.

I simply roam in the streets of Mumbai, reminiscing the past 17 birthdays I have ever celebrated with dad. Birthdays weren't a big deal in the household I grew up. That's the reason even Kiara didn't know it was my birthday, I don't blame her, I don't her's either. It's a insignificant detail in my perspective.

Isn't it ridiculous that people celebrate their existence? Like what have achieved in your life?

I sigh, sometimes I actually feel that I share a few traits with The President.

The car comes to halt when I pass through a graveyard. This is where they buried him, deep down in the soil. I couldn't even send him away for the last time, touch him for the last time, hold his life less body in arms and weep untill the grief vanishes from me. I gulp down the lump forming in my throat. I won't cry. Not untill I hunt down them.

I have the urge to go in. I swallow, the courage in me disappearing everytime I glance into it. No, I won't go in now. I promised him I'll only meet him after atleast killing one of them.

I start the engine and return back to the place.The clock strikes 5 PM. When I enter, I find a very unusual scene before me. My feet falter when I see the old man in the hall, sitting infront of the television, a keen interest in his eyes. Even though he masks the spark in his eyes with those spectacles, I see through them.

You've reached the end of published parts.

⏰ Last updated: 3 days ago ⏰

Add this story to your Library to get notified about new parts!

Fairy-TaleWhere stories live. Discover now