56. THE BEGINNING
***Day One: The Beginning***
**FLASHBACK** *MUARD & TALIYA in the middle school*
The heavy iron gates of Brookfield Middle School creaked open as Murad stepped onto the school grounds, his footsteps echoing in the early morning silence. The day was overcast, the sky a muted gray that seemed to reflect his mood. It was his first day at this new school, and the prospect of meeting new people filled him with a familiar sense of dread. Murad's muteness had always set him apart, making every new beginning feel like an insurmountable challenge. But, he was glad for his flaw too.
He was never involved in any kind of any drama and that became a blessing for Murad, for he hated the drama.
He clutched his backpack straps tighter, his knuckles turning white. His eyes remained fixed on the ground, avoiding the curious glances of students milling around the courtyard. They whispered and pointed, intrigued by the new kid who never spoke. Murad wished he could disappear into the crowd, but his silence made him all the more noticeable. He quickened his pace, eager to find the refuge of his assigned classroom. Cold breeze blew by making his hairs dance with the wind.
He wished to stop in his tracks and just feel the cold breeze, but he knew what lays before him if he didn't attend his class. Sighing, he firmly carried his bag on his shoulders and began walking to the last class of the corridor.
As he approached Room 7B, Murad's heart raced. The door was ajar, and he could hear the muffled sounds of students chatting inside. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open and stepped in, hoping to slip in unnoticed. The classroom was already half-full, with students clustered in small groups, their conversations filling the air with a low hum.
His anxiety buzzed with in his guts as he prepared himself to walk in the crowd.
Murad scanned the room, looking for an empty seat. The front rows were occupied by eager faces, students who raised their hands at every question and jotted down every word the teacher said. Murad knew he would be out of place there. He preferred the back of the room, where he could blend into the background and avoid attention. His eyes landed on the last bench, where a lone girl sat, her short hair falling in soft waves around her face. She was staring out the window, lost in thought.
Taliya. The name had been mentioned during the brief orientation he'd received earlier that morning. He had been told she was a quiet girl, much like himself, often keeping to herself. He was glad to find a student like him in this class.
Murad approached the bench cautiously, not wanting to disturb her. He placed his backpack on the floor and slid into the seat beside her, careful not to make any noise.
Taliya didn't acknowledge him. She continued to gaze out the window, her fingers absently tracing patterns on the wooden desk. Murad noticed the open notebook in front of her, filled with doodles—swirling lines and shapes that hinted at a world beyond the classroom walls. He admired her artwork silently, wondering what thoughts lay behind those quiet eyes.
The classroom buzzed with activity, but it felt distant to Murad. He glanced around, noticing how easily the other students interacted with each other, their voices a cacophony of shared stories and laughter. A pang of loneliness hit him, a familiar ache that he had carried with him from one school to the next. His muteness made him an outsider, a silent observer in a world of words. He was just a child, who wanted to be normal just normal.
Murad shifted in his seat, pulling out his own notebook and pencil. He didn't know what to draw, so he started sketching random shapes, trying to focus on anything but the anxious knot in his stomach. He could feel the weight of his silence, the unspoken words pressing down on him. He wanted to reach out, to connect with someone, but the fear of being misunderstood held him back.
Twitching his mouth he began lazily sketching some hairs then drew the outline of a face. He had drawn that character quite many times. He always drew him not because he liked his character but because he was always drawn to similarities between them. A character from an old comic.
The bell rang suddenly, startling them both. The sound cut through the classroom chatter, and the students quickly scrambled to their seats. Taliya jerked her hand, accidentally knocking her pencil off the desk. It rolled across the floor, coming to rest beside Murad's foot. He looked down at the pencil, then glanced at Taliya. She was already leaning down to retrieve it, her face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and irritation.
She cursed herself mentally on her own stupidity.
Their eyes met briefly. Murad saw a flicker of something in her gaze—annoyance or curiosity. Her black eyes nothing swirling in it. It was as if she was numb and didn't care. But, he was sure about the fraction of something he saw in it.
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