𝙈𝙀𝙃𝘼𝙇

"Yes Maa, I’ll eat now." I’ve got the phone wedged between my shoulder and ear.

My hands are busy holding my useless stuff.

"No, no… I wasn’t on the terrace painting." I lied to Maa again today.

“Papa and I will come to see you tomorrow, okay?” Maa said.

They still don’t have time for me.

“It’s time for Mehek’s school, Maa. You should go… we’ll meet tomorrow.”

She wants to leave, and I can’t keep making excuses to hold her back.

After all, everyone has their own life… why would anyone pause theirs for someone else?

Maa cut the call, and somehow I still tried to hold the phone in my hand.

I don’t even know why, but every morning, I still take my art supplies and go upstairs.

Painting doesn’t really make me happy anymore—it's just that I have less time now, and it helps me stay distracted.

This time... when will it end?

"Mehal, you went upstairs again without having breakfast?" My nurse-in-charge, Miss Komal, asked strictly.

Busted!! Ugh, not again.

"I was just about to, doctor," I said, not even looking at her as I started to run off.

And again—

Oh shit!!!

My phone!

My color palette!

My file!

Everything spilled.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!"

Whoever that was—I ignored him and started picking up my stuff from the floor.

"Wait, let me help you," the boy bent down to my level and picked up the sketch I had just made.

"Give that back," I reached out for the sheet, but he pulled his hand back.

"That’s Ron Weasley, right? You like him?" There was a strange kind of sparkle in his eyes.

"People don’t always draw what they like," I replied, keeping my expression neutral and took the sheet from him.

I picked up my stuff and stood up.

"Mehal? Anirudh? What’s going on here?" Doctor Komal was standing by the door to my room.

I turned back toward the boy—maybe Anirudh—and now he was standing on one leg, supported by his sticks.

Just a moment ago, he seemed fine...

Creepy guy.

"Uh... I—I just came out for some fresh air, doctor," he said, scratching the back of his neck with an awkward smile.

"Don’t you have a window in your room?"

"I was just about to leave," I told the doctor and walked away.

Back to my room—oops, prison no. 207.

But right before I stepped in, I glanced back at that boy.

He was smiling and talking to Doctor Komal, then walked into his room.

Room no. 209.

Such a strange boy. His real illness is probably that he doesn’t seem normal at all.

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Here's the first chapter and do tell about it. I would love reading all the comments 💌