~Episode one~
Criminals Never Feel Pain!
Students were playing football in the large campus of the old school, the high school is located in North delhi,
It was lunchtime. When Some students had already finished their lunch and returned to their classrooms. The teachers were busy gossiping in the staff room.
Inside Eleventh Standard classroom, a group of three Teenagers sat together in a last corner a place where no one usually noticed them. One of them, sitting near the wall, wore glasses and was reading something intently on his mobile phone.
Near their row, by the window, sat another student. His eyes were deep and lifeless, his lips dry, and his hair disheveled. He seemed completely lost to the world. There were fresh, deep cuts on his left wrist. He often tried to harm himself.
Children should be happy, but not all smiles are on their faces. Some smiles are hidden by discomfort and pain.
The group of three was gossiping about the last cricket match how Rohit and Kohli finished their game in Australia. They were completely crazy about cricket.
Suddenly, a boy with a strange hairstyle spoke up.
The teacher punished him almost every day before assembly because of that hairstyle, but he was stubborn and never cut his hair. One day, the teacher had asked him, "Are you Radhe? From the Tere Naam movie?"
The whole class burst into laughter. The room filled with noise except for one boy who sat silently, looking down.
He never talked to anyone, always stayed quiet. His name was Ivan the same boy sitting near the window with his back turned to them.
The boy with the strange hairstyle said, "I heard some news last night a woman was found dead in her locked house. It happened in our area, she lived nearby."
He lowered his voice. He had been punished several times by the principal for spreading false rumors, so this time he didn't want to take any risks.
"The police said it was suicide. They found no other evidence," said the boy lying on his stomach. He was eating chips one by one, as if it were some kind of entertainment news to him.
We hear such stories while sipping tea and eating food.
Are we… enjoying bad news?
Another boy, who had been silent until now, finally spoke. "Ah… another woman struggling with loneliness. I saw that news on my WhatsApp group too — she took her own life last night."
"No, no! That's nonsense. I heard there's a serial killer roaming around our neighborhood," said the boy with the strange hairstyle. "My mother didn't let me go to the fair near the school."
"Your mother is right," said the fat boy. "Serial killers pick weird people, and you could easily get noticed. Better stay home."
He casually ate another piece of chips.
"But there was no sign of struggle," said the boy who loved crime and detective stories. His question was reasonable; he had read the news carefully.
"Cops are lazy, who knows?" replied the boy with the strange hairstyle.
"A woman had an affair with her boss," said the boy with glasses, scrolling through his phone. "She got pregnant, and the boss stabbed her to death to avoid embarrassment."
"That's terrible," said the boy with the strange hairstyle, making a face.
"What's terrible?" asked the fat boy, throwing his empty chips packet behind the bench. Several others were already lying there — a small pile of garbage. The dustbin nearby was overflowing with empty packets.
"The story… it's so strange," said the boy with the weird hairstyle.
"'Strange'? That's horrifying," said the boy with glasses, closing his phone and slipping it into his pocket.
"Yeah… that's what I meant," the boy with the weird hairstyle said quickly, trying to change his words.
"Look at that boy over there," said the fat boy, pointing at the bench next to him. "I always thought he'd become a serial killer one day."
He was pointing at Ivan, whose eyes were fixed outside the window. Clouds were gathering slowly in the grey sky.
"He's weak," said the boy with the weird hairstyle.
"No it doesn't take strength. Even a neglected person can become a serial killer," said the boy with glasses. "I heard that from a psychologist."
"So what if I kill someone?" said the boy with the weird hairstyle, pretending to sound serious, though he knew he couldn't.
"No doubt about it," laughed the fat boy, putting a hand on his shoulder.
"Guys, I'm not joking," said the boy with the weird hairstyle, trying to convince them.
"Neither am I," said the boy with glasses, chuckling.
The three of them burst out laughing. Their laughter reached Ivan's ears.
He looked at them sideways and muttered softly, "Bastards."
Ivan had become very irritable these days. His anger flared up as quickly as lightning.
He sat quietly most of the time, rarely talked to anyone at school, and didn't even feel like going home.
He hadn't eaten his lunch again today nor had he eaten breakfast this morning.