Midnight came, then silence; the wind just gave up. Deep in sleep, something touched my
shoulder. Eyes opened; Najma was above me. Moonlight across her face. Fear sat heavily in her eyes.
Out of nowhere, her breath came quickly, and her eyes stretched open like she'd seen something
wrong. A hushed sound slipped out when she spoke, barely disturbing the air between us. She
said, "Sir Noor. Just stepped into Farah's and Faryal’s room." I jumped out of my bed. My heart
was pounding, and suddenly, my chest tightened from curiosity. Heavy air
pressed against the walls. That moment showed me something about our school; it wasn't a
shelter at all.
With light footsteps, we moved down the hall. Silent footsteps touched the cold floor without a
sound. Air was stuck in our lungs. Eyes stayed fixed ahead. At the doorway of the girls’ bedroom.
Out stepped the headmistress. Out of nowhere, fear kicked in, not a word came from the
gatekeeper. He snapped to attention, spine rigid. A salute followed, sharp and sudden. His
expression gave away whatever was unfolding.
It hit me that our school kept things hidden. Survival wasn’t a choice; it was what we were stuck
doing. Not only did the peaks of Balochistan look striking, but they also concealed hidden truths.
The night's visit provided proof: safety was an illusion here. Appearances were deceptive; both
the land and the building concealed secrets. After we saw it, everything blurred into nothing. A
thought kept coming back; it could have been an accident. Perhaps someone slipped up once.
Though there was no real doubt left. That break-in at the dorm stayed stuck in my head. My gut
twisted up, heavy and cold.
A few days passed smoothly, but one night, quiet nights before now seemed different—too still.
That hush carried weight. Something unseen lurked just behind it, ready to snap. Out of nowhere,
Najma quit laughing. Not a single joke slipped out after that. No more poking fun at me, either.
Instead, her eyes stayed fixed on the glass pane, as if expecting a signal.
Then came a dark evening, and her voice cut through the silence. At that moment, sunlight hit
the tiles just right. Across the open space, Sir Noor moved slowly, almost floating. His fingers
curled around that thick mustache like he owned the air. A guard stood stiff near the gate. Arms
still, face blank. Nothing changed in his posture. Not even a blink. My phone captured each
moment. Sir Noor walked into the girl’s room boldly as if he were welcome there. He moved
like someone aware his actions didn’t belong. Everyone else acted blind, eyes elsewhere. Not
merely rule-breaking, this carried deeper wrong.
Medium
No comments:
Post a Comment