Happy reading babiesss đˇđđź
This chapter is pretty close to my heart because whatever happened in this chapter with Samiksha at school. It actually happened with me. And it's based on real events soo đđđ
*You will get to know whyyy I used these, crying emojis*
( This Chapter gives a brief about samiksha's life)đđ
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Exams had drained every last ounce of energy from me. The wedding had barely ended, and before I could even breathe, life had thrown me into the never-ending chaos of studies, deadlines, and the brutal reality of chasing my passion. Balancing my love for writing with my academic responsibilities felt like walking a tightrope with no safety net.
Some nights, Iâd stare at the ceiling, questioning my decision to write on Wattpad. Was it worth it? Was it really the right choice? I loved expressing my thoughts, weaving emotions into words, and connecting with people who resonated with my stories. But with every ounce of appreciation, came an avalanche of unnecessary hate.
I never sought fameâI never wanted it. I just wanted to write. But people made it so toxic, cussing me out in DMs, leaving vile comments, all because I wrote better than them? Because my words touched hearts? Because I dared to be good at something?
And then, the breaking point. My maths exam day. I had deactivated my account for two days to studyâbecause, letâs be honest, maths and I were never on good terms. But the moment I logged back in after the exam, the sheer amount of hate awaiting me was suffocating.
"You abandoned us."
"How dare you not update?"
"You're so unprofessional."
Unbelievable. Was I a machine? Did they think I had no life beyond the screen? The irony was, that same day, I had to juggle viva exams, assignments, and updates just to keep everyone happy. Two weeks of absolute chaos. Zero sleep. It showed in my dark circles, my slow reflexes, and the constant dull ache in my head.
And yet, here I was. Sitting in class when I should have been home, catching up on much-needed rest. Why? Because my dear teacher, out of nowhere, decided to call my parents and tell them I "donât focus in class." Absolute bullshit. And of course, my parents, being the ideal Indian parents, believed every word. So instead of curling up in bed, I was here, dragging my exhausted self through yet another day of nonsense.
My spiraling thoughts were interrupted by Aarohiâs voice.
"Oye, kya hua? Chal na, sab ja rahe hain neeche. Chal!"
I blinked. Right. The oh-so-glorious Swachhta Abhiyan our school had so proudly organized. A campaign for cleanliness, yet they had deliberately spread garbage on the floor just so they could film students cleaning it up for social media. The audacity.
Oh God, this was the final straw.
I mean, if trash needed to be thrown out, I could gladly toss them instead.
What a day.
I mean agar kachra hi saaf karna hai toh mein aapko utha ke dustbin me fekk du mam??? Because that's where you belong to.
All the teachers were standing there, laughing for no reason. And some teachers puppies denied that 'ohhh ewww I can't clean that.'
As*h0le&
The Swachhta Abhiyan was over, but my misery had only just begun. They made us stand in a line like prisoners, parading us around for their so-called "cleanliness drive," which was nothing more than a staged show for social media. My body felt like it would collapse any secondâI hadnât slept properly in weeks.
Then, my teacher said something about washing hands before going back to class. My sleep-deprived brain barely registered her words. She stood near the boys' washroom as she spoke, and somehow, my exhausted mind interpreted her instructions as:
"Go inside and wash your hands there."
So, like a complete idiot, I walked in the BOYS WASHROOM.
Two steps inside, my brain short-circuited.
EWWWWWWWW!
My vision blurred from pure horror. The air smelled of cheap deodorant and something I didnât even want to identify. Boys stood frozen, their expressions ranging from shock to amusement. Some were smirking, some were red with embarrassment, and some were covering their⌠things.
"Wait⌠am I not supposed to be here?"
OF COURSE NOT, YOU MORON!
My subconscious screamed at me, but it was too late. A chorus of gasps, shocked whispers, and even a few suppressed laughs erupted around me. I could feel the heat rushing to my face.
My legs moved on their own. I spun around and bolted out of there, nearly knocking over a junior in my blind panic. My heart was pounding so fast I thought I might pass out.
I rushed into class, only to be greeted by Aarohiâs obnoxious cackling.
"Kaisa tha nazara?" she teased, her voice loud enough for the entire class to hear.
I groaned, wishing the ground would swallow me whole.
"Bruhhh, that was a bold step," she continued, barely containing her laughter. "I mean, everyone has their needs, but did you have to make it so public?"
The entire class burst into laughter.
I buried my face in my hands.
Oh, God. Just kill me now.
---
The day somehow got worse.
By the time chemistry class rolled around, Aarohi was still giggling over the washroom incident. I ignored her, lying lazily on the last bench. We had a class group chat, and everyone had agreed that no one had done their homework. So, I was safe.
At least, thatâs what I thought.
But the second the teacher started collecting homework, my stomach dropped.
One by one, every single student stood up and submitted their work.
WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL?
They had set me up.
Betrayal burned through me as I sat frozen in horror. Aarohi, sitting beside me, clenched her jaw, glaring at everyone who had just thrown me under the bus.
Then it happened.
"Samiksha."
I swallowed.
"Stand up."
My limbs felt stiff as I rose slowly.
"Where. Is. Your. Homework?"
My breath hitched. The class was silent, waiting for the drama to unfold.
"I-I donât h-have it," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper.
Her lips curled in disdain. And thenâshe ripped me apart.
"Of course, you donât. You never do. Too busy running around with your boyfriend, arenât you?"
The class erupted into snickers.
My chest tightened.
"Maybe if you spent less time fooling around and more time studying, you wouldnât be such a disappointment."
Heat crawled up my neck.
"No discipline. No focus. Tell me, Samiksha, do you think life will hand you success for being cute? Do you think the world will reward your laziness?"
I gripped the edge of my desk. My nails dug into the wood, trying to ground myself.
"Students like you are hopeless. If you canât even handle a simple assignment, what are you going to do with your life?"
The laughter around me felt like knives piercing my skin. My throat burned. My vision blurred.
Aarohi was fuming beside me, her fists clenched so tight her knuckles turned white. But I wasnât listening anymore.
I refused to cry. Not here. Not in front of them.
I hated pity. I hated those sympathetic glances.
I inhaled sharply, my body trembling.
"I want to go home."
Not my house. Home. A place where I could fall apart without judgment. A place where someone would hold me and tell me it was okay. But I had no one like that.
So instead, I corrected myself.
"I want to go to my house."
And with that, I sat down, swallowing the lump in my throat, willing the pain to disappear.
Abeer & Samiksha â A Safe Place
The bell rang. The school day was finally over.
Everyone rushed toward the exit, eager to go home. But not Samiksha.
She had just started packing her bag, desperate to leave behind the humiliation of the day, when a girl stepped into the classroom, her voice loud enough for everyone to hearâ
"Samiksha, principal ne bulaya hai office me."
A hush fell over the class. A few exchanged glances, some smirked. Samiksha, on the other hand, sat frozen.
"Huh?"
Now what?
Dragging her feet, she made her way to the office, her heartbeat heavy in her chest. As soon as she entered, she saw her chemistry teacher already standing there, venom practically dripping from her words.
"She never does her work, sir. No discipline, no dedication. What kind of student refuses to complete just fifteen questions? If we start tolerating this kind of behavior, what message are we sending?"
Samiksha stood in silence, fists clenched.
"Samiksha," the principal turned toward her, his voice hard, "this is unacceptable. Do you think school is a joke? Do you think we let students slack off for free? You will sit in class and complete these fifteen questionsâ"each one fifteen timesâ"before you are allowed to go home."*
A fresh wave of exhaustion washed over her.
"Understood?"
She wanted to protest, scream, tell them how unfair they were being. But what was the point?
"Yes, sir."
Head low, she turned back toward her empty classroom, trying not to let the tears fall.
Outside the school, Aarohi walked with slow, heavy steps.
"Why do you look so dull?"
Abeer had caught up to her, concern evident in his voice. "And why are you alone? Samiksha kahan hai? Tum dono ki ladai hui hai kya?"
She shook her head, then sighed before narrating the entire ordealâhow Samiksha had been humiliated, how the entire class had betrayed her, and how she was now stuck in school, redoing those fifteen cursed questions.
Abeerâs expression darkened. His jaw clenched.
"What. The. Fuck?"
Abeer never cursed. Not like this. But right now? He was fuming.
Sensing the storm brewing in him, Aarohi quickly spoke, "Abeer, calm downâ"
"Vidyut, drop her home," Abeer cut her off, already walking back toward the school.
"Abeer, what are you going to do?"
But he was gone.
Samiksha sat alone in the dimly lit classroom, forcing herself to focus on the words in front of her. Her hands trembled as she gripped the pen, her vision blurring.
She wouldnât cry.
No. Not here. Not in school.
But her body betrayed her. The exhaustion, the humiliationâit all piled up, pressing down on her chest.
And then, footsteps.
She didnât bother looking up. Probably some teacher checking in on her. But thenâ
Silence.
A presence.
She glanced up, and her teary eyes met his.
Abeer.
Time stilled. Something unspoken passed between them.
But she quickly lowered her gaze.
She couldnât show him this side of her. Not him. Not when he had always seen her as someone strong.
He stepped closer, his voice quiet yet firm. "Are you okay?"
She nodded.
"Stop lying, Samiksha. At least for now."
"I'm not lying. I'm okay."
"Yeah? Thatâs visible in your eyes."
She ignored him, turning back to her notebook, gripping her pen harder.
But then he asked, "Who was the teacher?"
She blinked. "Huh?"
"Who was the teacher?" His voice was sharp.
"Chemistry."
"And who were the students who lied to you?"
Confused, she answered, "Everyone."
He gave a slow nod, his jaw tightening. He was thinking something.
And then, out of nowhere, he snatched her notebook from her hands.
"Abeer!" she protested, her voice cracking.
He ignored her and started writing.
"Abeer, donâtâ"
"Shut up."
She clenched her fists. "You donât have to do it."
"I know."
"I can manage. I donât need anyoneâs help. Iâve done this alone my whole life. This is nothing new for me. Please, donât do me any favors. I hate pity."
Her voice wavered.
"Maybe nobody loves me. Maybe I really am a burden to this world. I guess I deserve it. And Iâm fine by myâ"
A tear slipped down her cheek.
Abeer stilled. His grip on the pen tightened.
"And?" His voice was dangerously soft.
She stayed silent.
"Samiksha, listen to me. You donât deserve any of this. Tum pagal ho. You are not a burden, not to this world, not to anyone."
She swallowed, gripping the edge of the table.
"And you keep saying youâll manage. Samiksha, you havenât slept for nights. Youâre exhausted. And you expect me to just sit and watch?"
His voice softened slightly.
"Iâm not doing you a favor, okay? Iâm doing this because you donât deserve to be treated this way."
She looked away, biting her lip to stop it from trembling.
"And what was that nonsense about nobody loving you?" Abeerâs voice dropped, almost a whisper. "Do you not know that Iâ"
He stopped.
Cleared his throat.
"Never mind."
She sniffed, shaking her head. "I wonât cry."
Abeer sighed. "Samiksha. Please. Curse them. Yell. Break something. Do anything. But donât keep this inside. And donât ever think I will judge you."
"You wonât?" she whispered.
"Never."
And just like thatâher dam broke.
Her sobs were raw, painful, echoing in the empty classroom. Abeer felt his own throat tighten. His hands curled into fists, rage bubbling at the thought of the people who had done this to her.
He hesitated. Then, slowly, he placed a hesitant hand on her shoulder, trying to comfort her.
But she didnât hesitate.
Without warning, she wrapped her arms around him, burying her face into his chest, still crying.
She tensed a second later, realizing what she had done. Maybe he wouldnât like this. Maybeâ
Before she could pull away, he held her tighter.
One hand stroked her hair, his touch gentle, grounding her. His warmth surrounded her, and for the first time in forever, she felt safe.
She soaked his shirt with her tears.
And then it hit her.
This was the home she had been searching for earlier.
The exhaustion weighed on her, pulling her deeper into his hold.
And before either of them realized itâshe had fallen asleep.
Her soft snores replaced the heart-wrenching sobs. Abeer pulled back slightly, watching her peaceful face, taking in her tear-stained cheeks, her puffy eyes, her reddened nose.
She looked so⌠fragile.
His gaze lowered to his shirt, now completely wet with her tears.
Without thinking, he brushed his fingers over her cheek, wiping away the last remnants of her sadness. Then, staring at the tear-stained spot on his hand, he brought it to his lips and pressed a silent kiss to it.
Samiksha⌠you think you donât deserve anything.
But I swear, I will give you everything.
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How was it??????
Love you allđđ
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