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Schools are the most valuable places for students, where they get their education and make friends. A typical me from inside with the same thought moved forward, looking to make new friends at a new school.

It was 2022, and the COVID pandemic was never to end. Classes were conducted on a hybrid module. It was the first time I stepped into my new school and a new class, 8th A.

Students around were talking and gossiping about the recent trends on Instagram. By the way, at that time, I was not using Instagram and was not familiar with it either. It was only in 9th grade when I created my Instagram account before the summer break arrived.

Back to the topic: I was new to the class, and my CT (class teacher) introduced me to the class. Although it was winter, being new to the class was new to me. I was nervous, but then I remembered that my grandfather called me 5 years ago in class 3rd when I joined my new school in Dehradun. He advised me to stay calm and confident. With his ideas and passion, I stepped into my class.

Term II, also known as the final examination, had arrived by then. It was decided by the school management to conduct those examinations offline in pen and paper format, and I turned pale as I knew nothing! It was by then that I started serious preparations and passed the exams by myself. :)

One day a boy arrived at the tap area and asked for my name. I replied. He vanished suddenly after that. But I didn't care about it much. The next day he again contacted me but this time he was she! She was next to my class corridor gazing at the teacher's talk and waiting for permission to make an announcement.

As the girl waited outside the classroom, I couldn't help but feel a strange sense of anticipation. Her presence seemed to cast a shadow over the bustling hallway. She finally entered, her footsteps echoing on the polished tiles, and introduced herself as Harshita. With a quiet but clear voice, she announced the upcoming inter-school debate competition and encouraged participation.

When Harshita finished, she glanced in my direction, her eyes pausing for a moment before she turned to leave. Something about her stimulated my curiosity, a sense of mystery that I couldn’t quite place. The bell rang, signalling the end of the day, and as I packed my bag, I found myself thinking about her. Who was she? And why did she seem so familiar?

Over the next few days, I noticed Harshita more often. She was always alone, moving through the corridors with a purpose, yet never engaging in the idle conversation that surrounded her. Her presence was both mesmerising and disturbing. One day at our sports lesson, I saw her sitting by herself under the large tree in the schoolyard, a book in her lap and a distant look in her eyes. I summoned the courage to approach her. She was a new student.

"Hey, Harshita," I greeted her awkwardly. "Mind if I join you?"

She looked up, her expression softening slightly. "Sure," she replied, her voice slightly above a whisper.

As I sat down, I noticed the book she was reading – it was a collection of poems. "Do you like poetry?" I asked, trying to make conversation.

She nodded. "It helps me escape," she said, her eyes reflecting a depth of sorrow that caught me off guard.

"Escape from what?" I asked gently.

Harshita hesitated, her fingers tracing the edges of the book. "From the memories," she finally said, her voice trembling. "My brother... he was supposed to be here with me. He loved this school. But last year, he...he...never mind."

She gave me a sad smile. "It's okay. People don't know, and I prefer it that way. They think I'm strange, but it's easier than explaining.

As the days turned into weeks, Harshita and I became friends. She was a brilliant student, her knowledge and insight far beyond her years. I learned that she was passionate about astronomy and dreamed of becoming an astrophysicist.

However, our friendship wasn't without its challenges. One day, I noticed Harshita's absence during a particularly difficult math class. Concerned, I went looking for her after school and found her on her school bus her eyes red from crying.

"What's wrong?" I asked, sitting down beside her.

"My parents," she said, her voice hardly audible. I was unable to hear her voice as her bus left the school premises leaving me behind.

I didn't know what to say, so I just sat with her, offering silent support. Over time, I realized that she was carrying more pain than anyone should at our age. She was strong, but even the strongest people need someone to lean on.

One evening, as we were talking, she stopped suddenly. "There's something I need to tell you," she said, her tone serious. "My brother is locked in a room, it was yellow, something like an old basement of an apartment!"

It was strange for me but I calmed her and said what you are saying?

Nothing, she replied and ended the call.

Little did I know, the next chapter of our story would bring even more challenges and disclosures. As the summer sunset on our school year, a new beginning awaited us, testing our friendship and strength in ways we couldn't yet imagine.

To be continued...

This story is a work of fiction and the resemblance of a name, place or entity in the real world is a coincidence. If any element in the story resembles a real-life entity and thus causes a privacy breach, he/she can approach us at email highcommand@catgroup.uk

For grammatical errors please post it down in the comments section.

Thank You, Readers.

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