Remorse

Twelve hours. That’s the amount of time I spend shoving my face into books daily. I wouldn’t consider myself a nerd, as I’m being bribed to do this. I don’t have the time to do anything but memorise every single goddamn line from the never-ending pile of books. No matter how many hours I grind, it still doesn’t feel enough. Maybe it’s just me being cautious, but you can never be too careful in situations like this. You may ask, what kind of situation?

I mean, when you’re being gifted a motorcycle if you top the class, stress and sleep deprivation are definitely expected. A Honda is what I chose when I was offered a bike. I was just being considerate by choosing something they could afford, since this deal wasn’t me swindling my parents. Do I feel guilty about it? Maybe. I’m not asking for too much. No, all I want is just a Honda.

Cover Photo by Pankaj Tottada

I briskly climb the stairs with my head facing my feet. The five-year-old white paint coat on the steps fell off just like my energy. The sun goes down as I open the gate to the small rooftop terrace of my apartment. Dizzy in the head, I take a few more steps ahead and fall on the floor, unconscious. I start to feel drops of water being sprinkled on my face. An ugly face pops up with all its teeth in my face. 

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