The Stamp Paper Scam, Real Story by Jayant Tinaikar, on Telgi's takedown & unveiling the scam of ₹30,000 Cr. READ NOW
The Stamp Paper Scam, Real Story by Jayant Tinaikar, on Telgi's takedown & unveiling the scam of ₹30,000 Cr. READ NOW

Ajooni Vachher



Ajooni Vachher




6 mins

*Maya's pov*

When I reach a specific area where there is a huge wall free space I grab my mask which is hung in a corner, designed by me.


After that I started painting something I never had time to draw because I had a lot on my plate but right now, in this moment... I didn't give two fucks. Because right now, the only thing that matters is me, the drawing, the wall, and making art. I have worked my ass off to make this place presentable with all my art work and spray paintings so that one day this can be my art gallery also built in the school so that I leave a memory behind and new people who want to join are school can look at my work and admire what I and they have to offer. Every song I love, it's album sketch and painting beside each other, every artist and art work I admired painted and aligned.

Every time I came here what I felt expressed in different paintings and spray paintings. Every empty wall, now filled with quotes, paintings, portraits, sketchings, spray paintings, calligraphy, illusions, 3d, gaming sketches, every form of art. Each classroom now filled with its own unique stuff. For example, room 27 has a hologram of me singing and my voice coming from the speakers. My songs... All in room 24 the albums sketches and paintings with a in built, molded into the wall a mp3 player with my song and the music I designed for it with earphones to listen to them. Each album, 5 players so many people can listen to my songs. Each book I wrote in room 43, 5 copies of each, kept on a stand in front of the handmade painting and sketch of the cover, the stands holding the book having a clear unbreakable glass but buttons so that you can open, close, or turn the pages of the book.

Nice, white chairs aligned in front of each book conveniently, so that they can read my books while being comfortable. My full name sketched and embroidered with my number and my face in the background at the end of the room, just in case they want one of my books or want to talk to the author they can contact me. My email ID too if they want to contact me. A review book beside each of my books, so that they can tell me what I did wrong or whatever they want to tell me. It's a digital pad book so whenever they write something I get notified. A class at the end of the hall filled with all my gymnastics images, sketchings, videos on various screens a video playing. Paintings yet beside the sketch and videos. But walls and doors for each moment, a room.

At last, of course, there was more but naming everything will take a long time. But the old gym now a gymnasium where I practice. The school allows this because they were about to break down this part but the way it looked now, they called this my area. They know that now that I'm back, most of my attention will be to this area of the school. But where the gymnasium is located, from there no one is allowed, why? Because that is where I make my sketchings, paintings, etc. Each and every room has my name, contact number, e-mail, wattpad ID, storymirror ID,embroidered. And my face painted in the background. I continue painting my sketch, taking different colours and colouring it, different shades to be precise. When I was done, it looked just how I imagined it.


Yes, the black was first painted on the wall before I started spray painting. It was the end of the day in about an hour. So I decided to walk around. Everything in here is a memory, it expressed something. Every song, had a hidden meaning, a message in the lyrics. Not like when you reverse it you hear it, like if you pay attention, you understand what that song meant or what it was about. Every date which was written below each, book, painting, drawing etc, was a memory. I soon didn't know where my feet were taking me but soon enough, I was in front of my song book, opening a page which I had written long ago, long enough to almost forget about it. 


I read it with tears in my eyes. It was my old friends. We wrote this to prove our music sir wrong. He said that our class had potential, but never could we use it without paying attention to what we can do. Back then, I was almost the same. Except I loved my guitar, and I never went anywhere, anywhere without it. I saw it at the corner of the room, laying there. I chuckled, remembering how obsessed I was with it. I picked it up, removed it out and felt it. I remember at the end of fifth grade, I took this, sneaked my new phone and air pods with me and snuck them when my mother wasn't looking and I went to school, not before grabbing my JBL speakers. Our bus driver knew me since I was little so he allowed me to use them, luckily, they were waterproof and my phone and air pods were at the front of the bus, or else I would have died. We had a watertight that day, all the little kids were transferred so it was just 5th and above. All my friends attacked me and Ryder. I didn't realize I was crying until two strong arms wrapped around me and hugged me from behind. I glanced back, looking at Ryder who was staring at me with those intent turquoise eyes. I was surprised to see him here. He kissed my tears until they stopped. 

But then I remembered, for a whole month, we didn't talk. I continued tutoring Will, but we weren't the same, he wasn't the same, he kept on throwing himself at me, acting like someone else. I stopped tutoring him after two days, saying I loved someone else. It was true. I was madly in love with this man in front of me and Cole. And no one can come between that. 

No. One. 

Even if I have to fight a million people, I will. Because they are worth it.

#Ryder's pov#

I followed her in the abandoned area and saw tons of drawings, but when I saw her in that room, after a month, she looked broken. I saw her there, looking at that guitar of hers. I mentally chuckled, she was obsessed with that thing. Now, after me coming and hugging her, she looked at me with emotions. 





The last emotion was one I was afraid of, I never thought me and Cole leaving her would have such a effect on her.

"I-I'm sorry"

She whispered.

"I s-stopped tutoring that bastard after two days. I told the teacher I didn't have time and she knew better than to argue. I-I'm sorry, I love you more than anything and I-"

Before she could continue I pinned her to the wall and her wrists above her head, I kissed her.

Oh how I missed her lips on mine.

I thought. 

I released her hands and they went to go up to tug and run through my hair. My hands went to her waist, pulling her impossibly close to me. We pulled away at the lack of oxygen, panting. I looked in her eyes and saw that she no longer felt abandoned. I realized school ended a few minutes ago so we silently went to her bike, her sitting behind me. We went to her house and to her room. Before she got a call, she put it on speaker.



"Yeah, why?"




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