The Night You Died

Chapter One

Rayan's POV

Tuesday/June 25/10:17am

I'm in a small room, that is getting smaller each second. A paper, diary under my head watching me, begging me to stop torturing her. Like I am using a knife instead of this pen and tearing this very first page with my brutal assaults.

A fly wanders by, distracting me a little from my craziness. I looked up at the small flying thing. It's black as my heart. Suddenly the scrounging of this little creature unblurs and I see my classroom like I have never been here before. To be fair, this me, has never actually been here before. Ma'am Tahira seems passionated on what she's talking. But what is she talking? Sometimes I'm amused by people's never ending talking. I don't blame them. I admire their energy, at least others are here with passion and . . . happiness.

Suddenly I feel an urge to cry. I cringe my face and my eyes go wet. Again, for the hundredth time my vision goes blurry.

Memories of June 18 hit me. That day was supposed to be happy day. I remember waking up, all energetic and so, human. I was laughing that morning with my younger brother. Helping my mom in the kitchen, I love helping her with breakfast. Oh sorry, I loved. Or I should say, that Rayan. He loved helping her with breakfast. This Rayan. Me. Not so much alive at all.

I remember getting ready and going for school. I remember climbing on my bike and crossing the streets of Hyderabad. That day, was supposed to be happy. Isra High. My school, good in education and known for it's cricket team.

I pulled my ride into the parking lot and jog to the building bouncing on the stairs greeting my friends. That day was sure supposed to be happy. Who would have thought? . . .

Shyam. My best friend. A tall black hair blue eyes boy. Handsome, charming jaws and a sharp dominant face. He is pale but his skin contains that darker tone of Pakistanis. I on the other hand am cursed by more white skin tone.

Shyam in his blue jeans and black and red striped T shirt was staring down sitting on the stairs of the academic building, jiggling his car keys. He looked worried and nervous. Shyam nervous. That's first time.

"Shyam?" I spoke first, "You alright?" His face raise up. Oh boy, that's bad. I could see that's bad. His eyes on me. Those blue eyes tense on me like they were eating my insides.

"Rayan." He said, tone so deemed, so suppressed, so full of weight. I could have never imagine what was bothering him. He continued, "Sajid. You know where is he?" Sajid. Shyam, Sajid and I are the three best friends who are known as brothers in whole school. We are so much more than just best friends. We are more.

"No, what's wrong?" I asked, confused and. . . Afraid. I could feel myself getting uncomfortable, unease in the day that was supposed to be happy.

"His phone is switched off since last night." he said, "And he also hasn't come to school today." He sounds like that person among the group who tells haunting stories, and his deep voice servers this job well.

"Come on Shyam." I said mockingly, "He'll be here any minute. The classes isn't started yet." I was trying to hide the tension, but I felt this dangerous curiosity too. Where is he? I rub my back head and spoke again, "He may not come today. He bunks classes too much, doesn't he?"

He looks at me like my words weren't making any sense, still giving me that same hard to read gestures, he said, "His phone is switched off?" His tone was questioning. But don't know it he was asking or telling. There I did realize that Sajid never switches his phone. He is frequent in texting and calling.

"Is Aysha here?" I asked him. Ayah, Sajid's little sister. She is one grade junior than us. A nice and kind little princess of the Waqar family. She isn't only Sajid's little sister, but also a very good friend of me and Shyam.

We both than went to Central library building. If she's here, she's probably there. As we entered the enormous and beautiful blue red building. We head for the hall where I mostly sit. We believed she might be there.

As I entered the room, my eyes directly caught her dark shoulder sized hair leaning on her face having a failed attempt to interrupt her reading something on her desk.

We both went around her and took each seat either side of her. Her mind came back from the book to this library. She looked at me and than at Shyam, and than looked down again.

"Where's Sajid." Shyam asked her directly. I think we may have asked about her before asking about him, but does that matter? Really? What happened, happened anyway.

There I noticed something. Something on her face. Her gestures, they were telling something. Screaming something. She shook her head facing him in a blasting instance. She spoke, "He hasn't been home last night. His phone is switched off." She faces me, "I thought he'll be with you."

Shyam leans forward, "Don't worry, he is a social guy, probably gone to his friends." Shyam soothed while rubbing her back. But that was lie, actually, we were his only friends. He was well known for his cricket skills but still wasn't a fan of socializing. He was only friends with us.

I shared my thoughts, "Last night our school won a big match. It was against our rival school. Surely he would be attending celebration parties and slept somewhere in private hostel." Last night was indeed a very big cricket match. Our Isra High School and rival County Beacons High are well known for their cricket. Some of our graduates even play in international cricket. Sajid was the man of the match of that game. My convincing even convinced myself. But I was never read to ease my tension. Something was off and I could feel it.

"But the night he told us that he was not in the mood to attend any celebration. You were there too... Don't you remember?" said Shyam looking at me while his hands were still soothing her back. Okay, so we are not trying to convince Aysha anything. We were all lost in dark.

My brows frown, "Did he said that?" I asked, not remembering.

Shyam gives me a serious look, "You forgot? You told me that night. I heard it only by you."

I rise my arms, "I don't know, whatever happened last night I just uh, forgot."

"How can you forget? Were you high?" desperation was turning him angry. I couldn't blame him, he's finding his best friend and yet there's no clue.

Suddenly we all heard the Principal speaking from the speakers of our library building, "Dear Students, one of our student Sajid Waqar is found, uh he is found dead. . . Kindly reach out to his parents in this tragedy..."

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