Bird's View

I observed them all from my exclusive corner of obscurity, slinking down into the shadows. I watched and catalogued them, tagging them for future references for my characters in my stories, from the hormonal love birds who couldn't keep their hands of each other, thinking themselves unnoticed; the gamers, who held exciting other words death matches over the Wi-Fi, on their phones, discreetly placed under the desk; to the bobble heads of the sleep deprived zombies, fighting a losing battle with sleep, their heads providing a very suspenseful and exciting game where I bet with myself whose head will bang the desk first. After the bang, the changes of expression in their face is better than any soap opera, from pain and suffering, to disbelief and betrayal by gravity and their neck.

Then in the back benches lurked other kinds like me, lost in their own world, creating magic in their notebooks, definitely not related to whatever is being taken in class. In contrast, sat the first benchers, their pens smoking from the speed of note taking, even writing down the slide number shown on the presentation by the teacher, their heads to the paper, nose inches away from a fast moving pen, sometimes I fear they will poke their eye with it.

My eyes kept taking in the classroom, as it usually does, when I am not writing a story or reading a book...But today something was off, I looked to my side and saw the aberration in the natural order . A first bencher had relegated to the back, someone messing with the matrix..I knew the kid, he was one of the nicer people in class, studious like the rest of the first benchers, but always ready to help others. He kept to himself mostly, never making any unnecessary ripples. I hadn't watched him much before because of that.

I observed him now, his shirt was crumpled, eyes unfocused staring straight at the projector screen, writing notes mechanically, but he didn't seem to be actually present fully, his thoughts lost in some other plane. I got a strange tingling as I saw him, his whole aura radiating a sense of sadness speaking of an interesting story behind this state, and as plants are drawn to the sun, my curiosity drew me to his story. I wanted to ask him myself, what the case was, imagining to my myself the usual story of heartbreak and teenage angst, but his whole stance kept off any questioning. He didn't have any close acquaintances for me to question either, a lone wolf character.

Soon the day came to an end, with my curiosity still thirsty, and the bell rang, signifying an end to that day's torture, sorry, classes. I looked up to the boy, only to see his fast receding back, fast disappearing. He was up, up and away, even before I could pack my bag.

This became a common scene over the next few days, his change in appearance and routine, especially the super fast escape act, it needled at my core. I kept up my detective work, but still came up with no answers.

One day, while hanging around the staff room, to get a long overdue record correction, I struck a conversation with a teacher, she was a gem of a human being, helping children above and beyond the call of duty, more than a teacher, she was also a friend and guide for many, including myself. Teachers like her were the ones who touched a student to the soul and brought about lasting and real change. During the course of conversation, I casually mentioned the boy's situation and my frustration in it, and I could very easily have missed the dark cloud of unease passing her face for a split second, but I didn't, and I knew that she had answers. "You know something about this don't you, you have to tell me what it is..I am dying from curiosity..Please "I kept pestering her repeatedly, even as she became more and more evasive, trying to change the subject, but I wasn't one to be side tracked...Finally she gave in "fine, I will tell you, if not to get you to shut up, at least to let off the back of that poor kid. You are to never tell anyone else about this, and to never ask or pester him anymore.

He is a sweet kid, quiet and keeps to himself, but has a heart of gold. He comes to me at times, to talk and get some comfort maybe, he has a lot of troubles at home, but he always keeps a brave front, and a smile for everyone. He loves his elder sister beyond anything, she being the one ray of sunshine in his life.. recently his sister attempted to suicide, over some love failure. He came to me a few days later. Broke down and told me how afraid he was of letting her out of his sight, for he feared she may try to again, that's why he runs home every day after class. He won't stand seeing anything happen to her again. He is a good kid. A brave kid "her words sounded distant and faint, the blood rushing to my ears, loud as waves, as my heart bled for him. That poor soul."

With wet eyes, I walked back to class in a dazed state. I sat in my usual place, in the usual corner, everything as it was, but the way I saw the classroom had changed. I saw his downcast shoulders, the lowered head, I saw his clenched fists, I saw his constant fear, I saw his pure burning love pulsate through his being. I saw more than I had ever seen before. I saw others too, realising everyone had a story beyond what they show to the world, their superficial everyday masks just a cover for the reality. The always laughing clown of the class, hiding his sadness, and filling the emptiness within with dead laughter; the fat girl taunted everyday for being too greedy, flushing her mother's lovingly made lunch down the toilet. And so many other voiceless tales.

After a few days, he became absent one day. My heart fell down a deep pit, I kept looking for him the first thing, whenever I entered the classroom. For a week, things went on with his absence, and finally the day I decided I would have to do something, I entered the classroom to see him, and my heart skipped a happy beat.

Finally the day came to an end, and the bell rang. I looked expectantly at the boy...But he just sat with his head down at the desk.