The arrow of death

Chapter-3

I woke up with a start. My heart felt like it was working overtime from the way it was beating and my clothes were drenched in sweat. My breathing was heavy but other than that, there seemed to be no visible marks on my body. Nothing that would suggest anything out of the ordinary.

I looked around and realized I was on my bed and the sun was just over the horizon. It colored the sky a warm shade of orange and a gentle breeze was blowing. But unfortunately, I couldn't fully appreciate the beauty in front of me. Thankfully nothing looked out of place. The house still looked like the same old house that could come down any minute, the gardens were still unkempt and dry and the fountains showed no signs of running water. I looked at my watch. It was 6 am. After what happened last night, the sunlight felt warm and comforting on my face.

It's fine, I told myself. It was just a dream, nothing to be afraid of.

But I was having a hard time convincing myself as the events that had occurred last night had felt very real. I know that I had touched the plants, and I know that I had walked around the garden but that couldn't have been real. It would have to be time travel or something and that certainly isn't the most logical answer to this problem. I tried to recall details regarding what had happened last night but to my surprise, the information seemed to elude me. I only remembered one thing. It was a feeling of absolute terror when the woman ran towards me. But there was also a strange sense of familiarity that I couldn't put my finger on.

I was trying to decide whether or not I was going crazy when I looked over to my side. Dad's bed was there but it was empty for some reason. I was about to panic when my father's voice called out from inside the house. I breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that he was okay.

'Come quick and have your breakfast' he said loudly. 'You have to get ready for school.'

Oh yeah. I had forgotten. It was my first day in school here, in a foreign country. Great, just another thing to be stressed about.

'I'm coming' I replied.

I still had a lot on my mind but I had to put it all behind me. After all, the first days in a new school could be rough, that too in a new country altogether. I had to be mentally prepared.

                                                                                              ****

After having my breakfast and getting dressed I felt a lot better and felt ready to face the world and everything it had in store for me.

As I stepped out, Dad called out for me to wait for him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a thin golden thread, with a circular disk in the middle.

'Happy Birthday son.' He said with a smile. 'This is a gift from me as well as your mother.'

'Is it real gold?'

'Yes, it's supposed to honor the sun god.' He said. 'Your mother told me that it will protect you and grant you courage. She was adamant that I give it to you on your seventeenth birthday but the move took so much time that it escaped my mind.'

'Well, thanks for the gift, but you know I don't believe in religious stuff, right?'

'Just put it on.' He said, a frown forming on his lips and his forehead tensing like it usually does whenever we start to argue.

I smiled. It was amusing to see Dad get annoyed because he rarely ever does. Even though we are father and son we couldn't be more different. He was of average height, had caramel brown skin, and a semi-muscular build whereas I was more on the tall and lanky frame with a lighter shade of brown. He usually wore the same white shirt which he had ten of and he liked wearing hats. He was also very intelligent, observant, and very religious while I was more of an agnostic and not the brightest tool in the shed. It surprises me how we get along so well since we are very different even though we are father and son. He was a pretty religious guy whereas I was the opposite. Relatives would often say that I took more of my mother's looks and that would always make me wonder what life would've been like if the three of us were still together.

Thanks for the gift, Mom. Wish you were here. I thought.

'Fine' I said while putting it on. 'Let's go. I can't wait to check out my new school.'

                                                                                      *****

Due to all the stress I went through yesterday, I had completely forgotten about the elephant in the room. I'm an Indian American boy, studying in an Indian school who doesn't speak or understand any Hindi. How bad could it be, right?

As soon as I stepped onto the campus, the environment felt bizarre. Everyone was in uniform except for dear old me. People were staring, giving odd looks and I felt super out of place. But their stares were different. The eyes didn't feel like the stares I received back in the States. Those stares hurt. These stares were more embarrassing. Then I realized. They weren't staring at me because I looked different or because they felt I wasn't one of them. They were staring only because I was not in uniform. I couldn't believe it, I finally fit in with the crowd. I was among my people. No one would judge me for my looks or where I came from.

At least until I tried to speak to them.

When I tried asking for directions to my class in English, the stares got worse. The person I asked looked at me weirdly and replied in Hindi but I couldn't understand a word he said. I had to explain to him that I was not from around here and spoke nor understood any Hindi. 

Even after I finally reached my classroom, my problems didn't stop. While teaching the teacher would suddenly start explaining in Hindi and I was too shy to ask him to repeat it back in English. I couldn't even try talking to the other kids in the class because it seemed like all of them had already formed their friend circles. That wasn't surprising since I had joined about two months late and so of course I felt kinda like an outsider intruding into their personal space. I just took the empty seat on the first bench in the classroom and sat there quietly.

As I sat there, the teacher started to say something in Hindi again while pointing at me. I got nervous. Did I zone out? Or was I staring at him a bit too hard?

As these thoughts ran through my mind, the teacher said something again while pointing at me directly. I stood up sheepishly and said, "Uh... sir, I don't understand Hindi"

"Oh,  dear. I'm sorry, I thought you were Indian."

"I am sir, but I wasn't born here," I said feeling a bit embarrassed. 

"Come here," He said, gesturing for me to come to the front of the class.

"But, why sir?"

"You are a new student, right? So you should Introduce yourself to your classmates so that you can make some new friends"

Shit.