CHAPTER 4
924 Words
CHRIS' POV
I woke up with a splitting headache.
The kind that felt like someone had shoved nails into my skull and decided to hammer them in one by one.
I groaned and pressed my palm against my forehead.
No effect.
The pain remained.
Clicking my tongue in irritation, I climbed out of bed and headed straight for the bathroom without bothering to undress properly first...
A few seconds later, cold water crashed onto my head.
I flinched.
But I stayed under it.
The water continued running over my hair, down my face, and across my shoulders.
Slowly, the throbbing began to ease.
Not completely. But enough.
By the time I stepped out of the bathroom, the headache had retreated to a dull annoyance.
I'd take that as a win.
Turning toward my bed, I immediately regretted opening my eyes.
What a disaster.
Books.
Exercise notes.
My uniform.
Wrappers from yesterday's Maltesers.
Everything scattered across the mattress like a miniature crime scene.
Even my compass was lying there.
Open.
Dangerously open.
I stared at it.
Thank goodness that thing didn't stab me while I was sleeping.
---
My gaze shifted to the alarm clock.
6:48 AM.
Already?
The sun had risen, and the room was bright enough to remind me that life wasn't interested in giving me extra sleep.
"Today is going to be terrible."
I sighed.
Then began cleaning.
One book here.
Another there.
Uniform folded.
Wrappers thrown away.
Little by little, order returned to the room.
Fifteen minutes later, the place finally looked presentable.
Well…
Presentable by my standards.
Mum would probably still find ten things wrong with it.
A faint smile tugged at my lips.
She would be proud I even bothered cleaning it.
The smile vanished as quickly as it came.
Because Mum wasn't here.
Neither was Dad.
Neither were my siblings.
Just me.
Alone.
Like always.
---
I picked up my uniform and began getting dressed.
I had worn this thing dozens of times already.
And somehow I hated it more every single day.
A government school uniform.
Of all the schools Dad could have chosen, he picked this one.
Why?
I still didn't know.
Maybe he wanted me to learn humility.
Maybe he wanted me to suffer.
At this point, either explanation sounded believable.
I looked down at the dark green shorts.
I hated those too.
Shorts never looked right.
At least not on me.
Every time I walked through the streets wearing them, I felt it — that uncomfortable feeling of being seen as less than I actually was.
Reduced.
Like people saw the uniform first and me second.
And I hated that feeling.
But do I have a choice?
---
Since it was revision week, there wasn't much to carry.
I packed only the necessary notes into my bag before leaving the flat.
After locking the door behind me, I slipped the keys into my pocket.
"Morning."
My neighbour glanced up from his doorway and nodded.
That was all.
No conversation.
No unnecessary small talk.
Perfect.
I liked him.
---
The stairs were annoying as usual.
Living on the top floor sounded impressive until you actually had to climb down every morning.
Still, I had gotten used to it.
Eventually.
When I reached the compound, I headed toward the gate opposite the roadside shop.
I should have taken the other gate.
But something just… pulled me toward this one.
I'm not happy about that now
Honestly, I should have used the other gate.
I almost wish I had.
Because the moment I stepped outside —
I saw something that disgusts me more than my school uniform ever could.
—
A girl standing near the road like a complete freak.
She wore a hijab that matched her school uniform — probably a Muslim, attending a Muslim school.
And that was what made things worse.
Because I hate Muslims.
I don't fully understand why. But I've always felt a deep disgust toward them — maybe because of their belief that Allah is supreme.
There's no difference between our Gods. Both Christians and Muslims worship one God. So if that's the case…
Why are they different religions?
That question had never been answered for me.
And until it was — my feelings remained the same.
I stared at the Muslim girl with complete disgust.
I noticed the way she flinched under my gaze.
Good.
If my stare alone could make her that uncomfortable — then I wished I could stare at her forever.
She is just annoying.
I thought she would stand there forever.
But then she started walking.
Fast.
Almost too fast.
Like she was trying to escape.
---
I watched her go.
For some reason, that only made me stare longer.
She never looked back.
Not once.
For some reason, that bothered me more than it should have.
Eventually she disappeared through a small gate farther down the road.
Only then did I glance away.
I checked my watch.
7:25 AM.
"Damn."
I was already late.
I adjusted my bag and started walking immediately.
Long strides.
Fast pace.
No distractions. Forget that Muslim girl.
I could have taken the shortcut through the same gate she used.
But I wanted nothing to do with that girl.
Nothing.
So I took the longer route instead.
A right turn.
Then straight ahead.
Then left onto the main road.
Problem solved.
Or so I thought.
Because halfway through the walk, something suddenly clicked in my head.
I stopped.
"…Jeez."
Mercy told me to do something today.
And I had completely forgotten.
- Writer
