IntroductionThis story is based on a true love story that spanned nearly two decades. Names and locations have been changed to protect the privacy of the individuals involved in this case. The chronological order of events has been maintained for continuity. All stories and experiences are based on facts. This book is based on a love story that was a secret and perhaps should have remained a secret. The first book was a book of poems titled "Kahin, Kabhi, Kisi Kath: Love Poems and Short Stories", . These poems were inspired by what I liked. An astute reader can trace the ups and downs of our relationship. These 18 years were filled with strong love and passion. Maybe it was imagination; It was probably the most surreal thing we would have ever experienced. The heartbreaking part of this love affair is that I'm not really sure that my boyfriend has ever understood or appreciated my deep and unconditional love for him. I opened my heart to him through poetry and thoughtful letters, but he rarely showed me what was in his heart. Maybe it was a one-sided love affair, but I certainly hope not. By her words and actions I was convinced that she truly loved me. At least I got to experience the pure love I had only dreamed was possible. Perhaps readers can experience and hopefully feel the deep love we feel for each other. The story is told primarily through letters exchanged between each other.

Book one of the lost love seriesbook name love at first sightthere are 60 love story booksand one love story at 30 chapteran this love story genre romancethe love story is very good story plz read and ask for a good 😊

13 SHOTS AT HEAVENThis wasn't going to be a big deal.I was just supposed to come here and get the job done. And it wasn't much of a job either. Ok, I'm not a pro but I did have my moments of glory when my little piece of art won me the Grand Prize on the local newspaper's amateur photography competition, I even got to have my own face spread across the pages of my daddy's favorite daily paper and it felt like I was some sort of a celebrity for days after that. People were looking at me everywhere I went, wondering if I was the girl who won the photo contest with that spicy nude act of the handsome model they all knew too well. At first I was painfully aware of the attention but soon enough I learned to ignore it. So what if my model was the most popular dentist in this town? No wonder, he was the only dentist here. And he was every mother's dream son-in-law. But that's not my problem. It was his own decision to pose for me and I couldn't pass such a wonderful opportunity to show my talent. And his perfect body. Especially one exceptionally perfect part of it.But before I even knew it, my days of glory were over. The super-scandalous affair of mayor's wife shook the town like a storm and nobody remembered my naked masterpiece from the photography contest, let alone the rumors of my ménage à trois with my hot model and his mysterious fiancéel I understand that people who live in small towns need to have more imagination than people in big cities otherwise life would be unbearably boring so I don't hold it against them. Especially since I was well aware that my beautiful naked boy had slightly different sexual role-play in mind. And he was far from getting married since the law in this state didn't quite get there yet I'm afraid....However, things are back to normal now and I'm back to wasting my days trying to figure out what to do with the rest of my life. I should have thought about that earlier, I know. But who could have expected life would turn out this way? So, this is who I am at the moment: thirty, single and confused on almost all important fields of life. That means career, family or lifestyle in general. As for the career, I actually have none. The series of interesting but low paid jobs in magazines or TV and radio stations that were shut down sooner than they started to make a name for themselves led to nowhere and that's exactly where I am right now. Back to my dad's house in a small town I thought I'd never have to spend more than a weekend in ever again. This is not what I hoped for when I left for college all those years ago, dreaming of big city life and a successful career on TV. Life was so promising back than, and those promises blinded me so much that I didn't take time seriously at all. It was like I couldn't perceive the passing of time as we know it. I was absolutely unaware of the fact that years were passing me by and making me older with each season, month, minute. OK, I always looked younger than my age and maybe that's what had cost me in the first place. More than a decade passed and I just woke up one day and realized that I was alone and broke in a rented apartment with a soon to be ex boyfriend moving out. It was time to grow up. So I packed my bags and returned to my dad's house. Not a perfect way to embrace growing up, I know, but I needed to start somewhere. And I've been there ever since-at the startBut this might be my chance to change all that. Well, maybe not all.....Jonesin' for KaylaI unlock the door and enter my apartment. Home sweet home. I have three hours to kill until party time, so why not entertain myself with a little porn. I doubt I'll get laid tonight, so might as well let the juices flow.I strip off my uniform and flop down in the recliner with my laptop. I open it to see my favorite porn site already open. "Perfect," I whisper.I click on the amateur section and scroll past screen caps of guys fucking girls, girls giving head, and girls licking each other's pussies. I can already feel my dick hardening against my boxers. I click on the video entitled "Les Tribbing 76" and am not disappointed.The video begins with a petite young blonde on top of a brunette, making out and slowly touching each other. The brunette squeezes the blonde's cute ass and then runs her fingertips up the blonde's side until it reaches her perky breast. She then gently flicks the blonde's pale nipple, causing it to stiffen. Meanwhile, the blonde kisses and licks the brunette's lips, and then moves her head to the side of her neck. She sucks and softly bites, while her left hand cups the brunette's right breast. Her nipples are getting harder too.The girls haven't even done anything yet and I am fully stiff. My eight-inch cock is throbbing and ready to be touched. I wish one of the girls in the video would come suck me off or sit on my dick. I need to have sex soon. Two months is too long for this big boy to go without pussy.The blonde continues kissing the br

Streisand's classical songs to me. Those are so beautiful they pull at my heart strings.We're staying in Montrose tonight. The hotel is not fancy but it has a pool. Casey and I swimming this evening at the hotel pool. We always have to get a hotel with a pool. We're not campers, even though I enjoy it myself, the rest of the family doesn't so wedon't. The air is so cool here at night, that you have to stay under the water to stay warm. I'm showing Casey how to dive tonight. I've started with a simple jackknife, then we did flips and twists. I've always wanted to do fancy dives. But it's so cold out of the water, that we hurry up our dives. Casey's turning blue so I've wrapped her up in a towel and we're going in for a nice hot shower. Boy this warm soapy shower feels good, wish you were here again. Must get some sleep tonight, Goodnite sweetheart! Tomorrows password is "valleys" Sent with a big, big, big hug! meJuly 12, 1990I wrote "Today were traveling across the mountains going toSalida. Just enjoying the scenery. We stopped at an Indian villageand visited some craft shops. There was a big reservoir along theway. Such a large beautiful blue lake. About a mile up too. Manypeople fishing, but we're just hikers. We took the trail around thelake. There were beautiful wildflowers. I found a small one thatspoke to me and said take me back to one you love. So, I put it inmy pocket. I hope I don't crush it during my walking and sitting.One of those mountain rain storms came through during ourwalk. We all got a little wet. I smiled when I remembered anotherstory of a rain storm. I think I was at Yellowstone during thatone. It's late afternoon now. And we're visiting a ghost town.Where once gold and silver were mined. The old buildings onceheld many people, all with stories to tell. Forever silent now. Onlythe wind is whistling through the broken windows. The sun is onlywarm now as it sets and we reach Salida. Casey and Mitchell aregetting excited about tomorrow's raft trip.The evening settles on this small town, a town where they roll up the sidewalks at 9pm. I was standing outside at 8:30 MST thinking of you. I think we were together in thought, at least I felt some connection in spirit. Tomorrow's password is "whitewater". I love you tonight! Me"Grace wrote on Thurs July 12 : 6:00 amHere I am peeking at the next day again, Oops, two days... Well, I couldn't stand not being able to talk to you this morning when you called so I am grabbing all the words from you I can find. Thanks for sharing all this week with me. I want to return this to you so you may have it Monday or Tuesday. Every night about this time the clouds come and roll around about making noise and threatening to rain. But, no rain comes. It's a dry North Carolina summer again. Not many sweet drops of rain on our shoulders. Plenty of summer breezes though.Been listening to Christmas music to cool off. I'm working on a rendition of one of Mannheim Steamroller's Christmas pieces for you, changing the words.... hmmmm...... Also listening to Lionel Ritchie's music you sent.I love you much.See you in a few weeks.I have a helluva lot to do between now and then..Grace sent a postcard to me about July 21st, 1990. The postcard has a picture of the Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel, Virginia on the front. Inside the card it says "Chesapeake Bay Bridge tunnel, Virginia - Looking south from the North Channel Bridge, the highest point along the 17.6 mile span." Grace writes "The impossible is made possible. A dream turns into design and achievement. We can all build bridges to unforeseeable destinations on the edge of the horizon. We can bridge the gaps of space and consequences... of things that keep us apart...July 13, 1990I wroteGot up very early today to drive to the Royal Gorge. Such a beautiful drive. We are all full of anticipation of the excitement ahead as we're going whitewater rafting today. Please come with us. We are all dressed in out tennis shoes and swimming suits and life jackets. The raft is inflated with a small electric pump. "River Runners LTD" is emblazoned across the side. Everyone gets into the raft at 9 am and we begin to float slowly out into the river. The mountains soar up on one side of the river here. We getinstructions on how to be safe and hold on, and what to do if we fall out. Feet up pointed downstream. It's a peaceful float to the first rapids. Then we hear the roar, and off we go down, down, down. WOW my heart is racing with excitement. Such excitement hasn't happened to me since I was in Texas about this day last month. Similar to the excitement and beauty of fireworks I feel when I am with you.Racing down some fast water now, not really rapids, but we're moving. We reach a calm section and jump out for a swim. The river valley is so spectacular here. It is a very Royal Gorge! Some of the rocks in the river are incredibly large. I found one verysmall one and place

A Short Love StoryLethargic and weak was the way he felt, Too many hospital emergencies that day were dealt, He had just finished his shiftfor the night, Finaly able to feel the breeze and see the morning light,He dragged himself to the pantry for a cup of coffee to drink, Pondered about his life as he slowly started to think, All the things he missed out on because he wanted to serve mankind, All the happiness that he could no longer find,Breakups and sacrifices because lovers could not stand, How he puts his job first, they could not understand, He wished to find the woman of his dreams in this life, Someone who understood and loved him to be called his wife,He looked through the hospital window while sipping the coffee at hand, Wondering if he had really made a difference in his land, The glass broke as he suddenly fell to the ground, His body slamming on the ground made such a sound,He woke up in the ward with an iv drip flowing to his hand, Wondering why was his shirt stained with sand, And next to him was a dove in a cage, And attached to its leg was a folded page,A suicide note was attached with a number there, He was so amused that he could only stare, Thenurse explained that the dove had flew at his head, And the lethargy and dehydration from work made him fall like he was dead,He called the number on the folded page and reached this girl, It was his highschool crush that was once his world, She was about to jump from a building before that call, And so they spoke about their past and how their love stood tall,He calmed her sadness and asked her out, For through the years she was always thought about, They both agreed to let their old love have a dance, They both had decided to give love another chance Crazy Love Story!Our love can't be expressed on a mere sheet. When I roamed the tracks of the street, No one cane And when I saw you I viciously exclarmed. You just looked at me and smiled. And I immediately resized that I was at the ad of my nude.Our love is a story for another day. Our levezmoulded with day Which can never be demolished. Our story love polisthed and cannot be abolished. The time we share is perfectly meaningful and worthwhile. Our finna love story rich cranot be compilatWien I walked in a lonely parm You alone came to save me from that dangerous fark. When I souped sesto a river, I couldn't suis, You joerped is too and because of me you learnt to saion. The love we share, is as aforious as fight. The light bright enough to find the eyesight.Our love is in chapters and scones, A well developed machine. The love we share is as care as a geos, Which can never be condorned When I was blind, You never left me alone; we still together wined?Wien others mocked me.I thought you will take in disappointment and flec, But you didn't you shocked me to my maгие, You ahways stood by me non when the park was so narrow, And even when the whole world stared. You weren't moved you still cared.Daning, your fave mans my heart. "Who lene wall stay with me through the cough edger of life and aus depart You make my heart skip with joy, I wish I could help but I can't, other than let it cloy. I wish I could reise my hands and tell you to stop, Sweetheart you're my light and ouy stairs to the topSHORT LOVE STORYA boy was dating a girl who always hurt him. One day, she broke up with him and told him, "I don't ever want to see you again."A few months later, the girl had a change ofheart. She realized that she loved the boy, soshe went back and said to him, "Give me justone more chance. I love you and I need you.I promise that I will never hurt you again."But the boy just laughed and said to her, "Only a fool would take back someone who hurt them so much."The girl felt hopeless and began to cry, but the boy put his arms around her, held her tightly and said, "...and I am one of those fools.""Roses of Love"The first snowflakes arrived early; the shadows of summer were being swept into memories as the earth moved swiftly into winter slumber."Flowers are still in bloom. The roses look magnificent with their dusting of white."He agrees, yet contemplates on what she had just said, and thinks about their relationship. 'Odd, why did the vision of roses covered in snow bring about that thought. She notices the abrupt change in his eyes; his eyes are her window into his mind.They have to start making their way back. He feels her hand gently squeeze his, and, looking at her face, he falls madly in love with her smile; how many times can you fall in love, every time she smiles.Her love love storyMaureen had two suitors, both equally fine, But her heart was divided, causing her to pine. Kevin was kind and funny, with a smile so bright, While Jack was adventurous, always up for a fight.Maureen couldn't decide, she was torn in two, Her heart was fractured, it felt so untrue. She spent her days pondering which man was her choice, But her heart and mind c

sickness may please stay in their cabins. Thank you."There was panic everywhere. An old lady pray- ed aloud, "Oh God! Have mercy on us. My only son is waiting for me in Singapore."A gentleman consoled her, "Don't worry, Madam, it's only a warning. We may not be affected at all."Another lady, who was sitting beside me, look- ed very ill. "Not rough weather! I'm already sea- sick. A rough sea will be the end of me!"I could not understand why all the elders were so upset. I remembered the several sea adven- tures I had read. Excitedly, I turned to the elder- ly gentleman sitting next to me. "Uncle, won't it be thrilling to face a storm on board a steamer? Have you ever been on a ship during a storm?""It can be quite unpleasant, you know," he re- plied rather severely. "I remember a time when the ship on which I was travelling ran off course. We were wandering on the ocean for a couple of days."I remembered my class teacher, an English wo- man, telling us in class one day, "When I crossed the English Channel on my way to Singapore, there was a big storm near Gibraltar. The ship rocked to and fro. Everything in the cabins roll- ed up and down. Even the heavy pianos in the lounge went crashing against the walls."This made my imagination run wild. Turning to 'Uncle' again, I said, "Wouldn't it be fun if the storm broke when we have lunch? Then the tables, with all the food on them, would run away from us. And the chairs, with us sitting on them, would be a merry-go-round."Everyone round the table stared at me in hor- ror. I thought to myself, 'Oh, these adults, they've no sense of adventure. How dull they are!"The storm didn't break, but in the evening a strong wind started blowing. The ship rocked to and fro, rocking and rolling to the music of the wind. Huge waves were dashing against it. Even though the deck was slippery, I was running around. That's when I noticed Uncle leaning over the railings. I ran up to him, thinking he too, was enjoying the experience. "Good morning, Uncle, isn't it lovely?" I asked him.But he wasn't well at all. He was retching over the rails and looked rather blue about the mouth. I felt sorry for him. "Can I be of any help? Shall I call the doctor?" I asked him.He couldn't reply, but only held up his hand. As another bout of retching shook him he leaned over the railings. At the same time a huge wave lashed the ship. It lurched violently and the man tumbled over the railings into the wild sea. For a second I stood rooted to the spot. Then I ran like someone possessed, shouting, "Help! Help!5 Man overboard! Save him!" I must have made a lot of noise. I heard footsteps hurrying even that early in the morning.Tears streaming down my face and shouting incoherently, I ran full pelt into an officer."What's the matter? Why are you making so much noise?" he asked in a stern voice, I was surprised to see it was the captain."Oh Sir!" I blurted out in relief. "A man fell into the sea. Please save him.""Where?" he asked, immediately on the alert. "There," I said pointing a finger.He did not wait for more details but ran at once to a room full of officers. "Man overboard," he cried. "Stop ship. Drop anchor. Quick!" His instructions were immediately obeyed. The cap- tain then raced to the upper deck. I kept trailing behind him. "Lower the life-boats and crew into the sea towards the helm," he said. "There is a man overboard." Here again the men quickly obeyed him.People started crowding the deck. "What's happening?" somebody asked me.Word soon went round. Everyone was tense. Only an occasional, "There he is!" could be heard. Someone asked, "Who is he?"Another replied, "Don't know."Meanwhile two life-boats moved towards the man. I stood close to the captain. In his anxiety,he gripped my shoulder tightly and I winced."You're hurting me Sir," I protested."I am sorry, my dear. The sea is very rough today. I hope my men can reach him in time. My ship has never lost a passenger before," he said crossing himself. He was watching the rescue operations through a pair of binoculars that hung round his neck.The boat was too far for me to see what was happening. I tugged at the Captain's sleeve. "What are they doing, Sir? Have they rescued the man?" I asked him."They've caught him by the arms and are pull- ing him towards the boat." He was giving me a running commentary. "Oh what bad luck! A sud- den current has swept the man away dragging two of the sailors with him." He sounded nervous. Just then he noticed the passengers crowding against the railings. "Keep away from those rail- ings!" he shouted. "We don't want another accident." The ship had dropped anchor but was heaving up and down.I borrowed the captain's binoculars. Now I could see the rescue operation clearly. The crew in the rescue boats threw a strong rope to the two sailors in the sea and shouted, "Catch". Both of them were good swimmers and soon had caught hold of the rope. Then, with powerf

there‘s no such thing as a white Mexican."The year was 1945, the end of World War II. As soldiers returned home, the country was in a state of transition, trying to reconcile the horrors of war with the promise of a better future. Among those returning were the five Botello brothers from San Saha, a small community in central Texas.Trinidad, the oldest at twenty-five years old, was the first to be discharged from the U.S. Army. As he sat in the clerk's office, a young soldier still adjusting to civilian life, he answered the routine questions about his physical appearance and citizenship. But when it came to his race, Trinidad hesitated. The clerk, impatient and following the protocol, reminded him of the only three options available: White, Negro, or Other (specify).Feeling a swell of pride in his heritage, Trinidad told the clerk he was Mexican. With a disinterested click on the typewriter, the clerk recorded his particulars: brown eyes, black hair, 5 feet, 5 inches, 145 pounds, U.S. citizen. And under 'Race,' the clerk typed 'Mexican.'The following year, Trinidad's younger brother, Crisantos, was discharged. His physical features were almost identical to Trinidad's, yet under 'Race,' the clerk typed 'White.' Confused and frustrated, Crisantos protested, but the clerk shrugged it off as just another error.It wasn't until the Botello brothers' youngest brother, Gregorio, returned from his service in the Navy that the family realized the inconsistency in their race classifications. Simon and John, who had also served in the war, were labeled as 'White' and 'Mexican' respectively. Three of the brothers were considered white and two, Mexican.This was not an isolated case. Across the country, Latino/a soldiers were being arbitrarily categorized as white, black, or other, depending on the whim of the person filling out their discharge papers. It was a bureaucratic imprecision that would continue to plague demographers, public policy makers, historians, and even family members for years to come.The irony was not lost on the veterans themselves. Aniceto 'Cheto' Nuñez, a veteran from West Texas, recalled being prodded by his drill instructor to answer whether he was Spanish or Mexican. He told the instructor he was Mexican, but the war had changed him into a white man. The instructor persisted, stating that there was no such thing as a white Mexican.As the years passed and the Botello brothers settled back into civilian life, the racial classifications on their discharge papers would continue to weigh on them. They were proud of their heritage and didn't want it diminished or erased by a bureaucratic error. But more importantly, they were aware of the consequences of these arbitrary classifications.For Latino/a veterans, their race could determine their rights and their future. It could affect their access to healthcare, education, and job opportunities. It could determine if they received the recognition they deserved for their service. And it could shape the way their stories were told in history.The Botello brothers' story is just one of many that illustrate the capriciousness of Latina/o racial categorization during World War II. It is a reminder of how a simple, seemingly inconsequential detail on a piece of paper can have far-reaching and lasting effects. And it is a call to action, to navigate through the bureaucratic imprecision in our search for an accurate count of Latino/a military service in World War II and beyond.Trinidad D. Botello was the eldest of the five Botello brothers from San Saba, Texas. Growing up, he was a proud Mexican-American and never thought twice about his identity. But when he turned 18, he was drafted into the US Army and suddenly his identity was called into question.As Trinidad went through basic training, he noticed that his fellow soldiers treated him differently. They called him 'Mexican' and joked about his heritage. At first, he shrugged it off, thinking they were just teasing. But as time went on, he realized that they truly saw him as different because he was Mexican-American.Trinidad couldn't understand why his own country would label him as such. He was born and raised in Texas, just like his brothers. They were all proud Americans, but because of their Latino heritage, they were treated differently.His experience in the army opened his eyes to the discrimination that Mexican-Americans faced on a daily basis. He saw how they were treated as second-class citizens, and it angered him. He wanted to do something to change the perception and treatment of Mexican-Americans in the US.Despite the challenges, Trinidad excelled in the army. He was a skilled soldier and earned the respect of his fellow soldiers and superiors. But when it came time for his discharge, he was shocked to see that he was identified as 'Mexican' on his paperwork. He couldn't believe that even the army, an institution that he had dedicated his time and service to, would label

Chapter 1First Sight"Sid id, Wake up! You are going to be late for school," Mom announced."I don't want to go to school," I said meekly while covering my head with a bed-sheet. Mom pulled away the bedsheet."Why?" Mom asked with a raised eyebrow."I am tired," I lied."Sid, you can't lie to me. You are not tired.""How do you know, Mom?""I am your mom. I know when you lie," she said confidently."Mom, please I don't want to go to school today.""Siddharth Ahuja, you are seventeen years old, but sometimes you act like a five-year-old. Don't make excuses, get ready, and come downstairs," Mom said while opening the window of my room."Mom, please call me Sid. The name 'Siddharth' is so old-fashioned.""Okay, but hurry up."1Ekta Renu ChandnaI went to my bathroom and got ready in minimal time. I wore my favourite black jeans and a brown hoodie. I brushed my hair quickly and fixed it with gel. I took off my phone from the charger, slung my bag over my right shoulder and went downstairs.My parents were sitting in the garden area. Dad was reading the newspaper and Mom was talking on the phone with her patient. I was the only child of my parents. I lived in Mussoorie, a beautiful hill station in India, with my parents. I had everything one could ask for-caring parents, a big beautiful house, and loyal friends. My parents were doctors by profession, and they had quite an excellent reputation in the town since they owned a big hospital which was one of the leading medical institutions in Mussoorie.Rita, our house-help, served me an omelette with brown bread and poured orange juice into my glass. Rita was of average height, had chubby cheeks and brown hair. She had been working at my home for the past ten years. She was in her mid-forties now. She was like a family member to us and always made delicious breakfast for me. I swiftly finished my meal."Sid, your driver is on holiday today, and we are getting late for the hospital. So, you have to go to school on your own," Dad said.I knew how to drive, but my parents did not give me permission to drive the car until I turned eighteen. So, I decided to walk. After all, my college was just twenty minutes away from my home.I was walking as fast as I could. The weather was cold,and a strong breeze was constantly blowing. Suddenly, Isaw an exceptionally beautiful girl walking down the street.She looked stunning in black jeans and a pink t-shirt. She2Invisible Girlfriendlooked like an angel. I instantly felt a strong connection with her.She had eyes of a colour unknown to me while her hair was brown and tied in a ponytail. Her pink lipstick perfectly matched her fair skin tone. Words failed to describe her. A girl like her was hard to forget, and that is why I could not get her out of my mind since the moment I saw her for the first time. I was so spellbound by her beauty that I started following her."Sid! Sid!" I heard a familiar voice calling me.I turned towards the voice, "John...John and I had been best friends since our childhood. He was a tall, dark and handsome boy with black hair and was the captain of the basketball team and an excellent student. Moreover, he was also the best-dressed boy of our college."Yes, it's me, my friend. Where are you going?" John asked while putting his phone in the pocket of his jeans."What are you doing here?" I asked."I saw you from afar. So, I came here to meet you."I turned back to look at that girl again, but she had disappeared. "Oh no! I lost her," I muttered under my breathe."What?""It's nothing.""Hurry up. We are getting late. We have to catch the History class on time," John prompted."Oh! Yes. How can I forget?"I rushed towards my school with John. I never liked my History class because of my History teacher Mr. Roy.3Ekta Renu ChandnaHe always annoyed me, and it seemed to me it was on purpose. As usual, I was not interested in attending his class, but I had to because of my parents. When I reached the class, I straight away went to my seat because I did not want Mr. Roy to scold me again as I was late, but luckily, he was not there.I was looking out of the window and thinking about the girl I had seen in the morning when Mr. Roy arrived in the classroom, but I was not paying attention. Suddenly, I heard a very sweet voice, and I looked up to see a baby- faced girl enter the classroom. It was the same girl I had seen in the morning on the street!Mr. Roy asked her to introduce herself, and I thanked God for sending her to my class."Hey everyone! I am Angel Jaswal, but you can call me AJ. I just moved here with my family. My favourite subject is History," she introduced herself. She seemed very innocent and soft-spoken.Mr. Roy told her to take a seat. Luckily, she came and sat next to me! My heartbeat increased suddenly. I was feeling incredibly nervous, but somehow, I managed to say: "Hey, I am Sid.""Hey," she replied.Mr. Roy started his boring lect

;Prajakta and me I could feel the pain and betrayal rising in me as Bhubanesh spoke those hurtful words. It seemed like the boiling anger inside me was finally boiling over, and I could no longer keep quiet. This wasn't the first time Bhubanesh had verbally attacked me, but it felt like the last straw. I had always been the the one to go to my mother and complain about Bhubanesh's cruel words, but this time, I refused to play her game. Instead, I decided to respond to her in her language. I took a deep breath and said, 'It's not me, it's you who doesn't belong here. You're a witch. You're the reason for all the fights between our parents. I hope you die soon.' I even used a cursed word whose meaning I didn't know, but I didn't care. Bhubanesh was taken aback by my words. They cut deep, just like hers did. She lost control and before I knew it, she had slapped me hard across the face. Our parents, Narendra kaka and even Prajakta didi, intervened to stop the fight. But somehow, in that moment, all the blame fell on me. It was as if I had been the one to start the whole thing. Bhubanesh, with her crocodile tears, played the victim and accused me of slapping her first. My parents immediately believed her without even listening to my side of the story. They scolded and beat me harshly, as if I was the worst person in the world. I couldn't believe that in just a matter of seconds, my entire family had turned against me. It felt like they had never truly cared for me, as if I was just a burden on them. Growing up, I had always felt like the odd one out in my family. My parents were always more attached to my elder sister, Rashmi didi, who was exceptionally good at studies. She was their first born, and they had always favored her over me and Prajakta didi. Rashmi didi always got what she asked for, while we had to make compromises and sacrifices to fulfill her desires. It felt like we were just pawns in her game, meant to serve her every wish. Sometimes, I wondered if I was adopted, or if my parents had just forgotten about me. But deep down, I knew that wasn't true. I was their child, and I deserved their love and support just as much as Rashmi didi did. But with this latest incident, I couldn't help but question everything. Was I really the black sheep of the family? Would I ever be accepted and loved for who I was? As I lay in bed, nursing my bruises and feeling the weight of my parents' disappointment crushing me, I couldn't help but wish for a new family. One where I would be loved and cherished just as much as any other member. Because in this family, I felt like a stranger, and I didn't know how much longer I could bear it. I wiped away my tears quickly as my uncle, Kaka, walked into my room. He could always tell when I had been crying, even though I tried my best to hide it. 'What's wrong, beta?' he asked, using the affectionate term for 'son' that he always used with me. 'I just don't understand why my parents never come to me for help or even talk to me about their problems,' I said, my voice trembling with emotion. Kaka sat down next to me on the bed and put a comforting hand on my shoulder. 'They love you, beta. They just have different ways of showing it.' 'But why do they always go to Rashmi didi? Even when I was the one taking care of my father when he was sick,' I said, feeling frustrated. 'I think you already know the answer to that, beta. Rashmi didi is their weakness, and you are their strength,' Kaka said, his voice filled with understanding. I frowned, not fully comprehending what he meant. 'What do you mean by that?' Kaka let out a sigh and looked at me with compassion. 'Sometimes, people don't realize who truly loves them until it's too late. Your parents know that you will always be there for them, so they take you for granted. But they also know that Rashmi didi loves them unconditionally, so they turn to her in their times of need.' I sat there in silence, absorbing his words. It was a hard truth to accept, but deep down, I knew it was true. Rashmi didi, my older sister, had always been my parents' favorite. I was the responsible one, always taking care of things while she was the carefree one, always getting their attention and affection. 'But why do parents have favorites?' I finally asked, feeling a sense of resentment towards my sister. Kaka let out a sad smile. 'I don't think they consciously choose a favorite, it just happens. They see a part of themselves in Rashmi didi, and that draws them to her.' 'I understand, but it still hurts,' I admitted, feeling the weight of disappointment and hurt in my chest. 'I know, beta. It's not easy, but just remember that your parents love you in their own way. And one day, they will realize how much you mean to them,' Kaka said, giving me a gentle hug. As I lay in bed that night, I couldn't help but reflect on Kaka's words. It was true, my parents did love me, they just didn't know how to show it. And as for Rashmi didi,