Nightfall ✓

Chapter 1

PART I : FOUND  
• chapter one •

The moment my father snapped my favorite paintbrush into two and told me to go and study instead of 'painting stupid pictures on that bloody canvas', I locked myself in the bathroom and cried because (a) there was nothing else to do and (b) my life was undeniably screwed up.

Screwed up in the sense that being at school was hell, and being at home was definitely hell.

No, I wasn't one of those popular girls who seemed to have everything on the surface but deep down had a story to tell; nor was I a total nerd who got bullied 24/7 and was suicidal. I was somewhere between these two  — a normal seventeen-year-old girl, who had one ex-boyfriend and two best friends, and one brother whom I had labelled a lunatic.

Most of the time I didn't get along with my family. Yeah, there were some days when they actually felt like family, but usually they spent their time trying to ruin my life. Or at least, that's how it appeared.

The day I'd reached high school, dad had called me into his room and told me very clearly that I had three options:

1. Become a doctor
2. Become a lawyer
3. Fall into a ditch and die.

Sure, dad was really, really strict, but even I'd been pretty shocked when he'd said the last option.

In short, my situation could be narrowed down to two words:

Life. Sucked.

So when two weeks later it was announced in the school auditorium in front of everyone that my painting had won me an art scholarship to America, I jumped with joy (Literally. I jumped up and down on my bed till I fell down and twisted my ankle.) People applauded and some congratulated me (as in, six of my classmates). Sharon and Sana hugged me and told me they were proud of me.

As we made our way to the canteen to celebrate (instead of attending our physics class), Sharon said, with a hint of jealousy in her voice, "You're so lucky. I wish I could get a chance to escape, too."

"College will be your chance to escape," I reminded her.

We had always talked about escaping this little, miserable town of Dwarka, and going to some nice place someday where we could live life the way we wanted to. There was nothing here that interested us. There was just nothing to do, apart from trying to save yourself from the vagabonds, murderers, rapists and thieves that haunted the streets at night.

And lo! I had a chance to get away now.

We reached the canteen. Sharon took out her money and banged it on the counter. "Give us something edible," she said to the chef. She hated him.

"What do you mean by that?" the chef asked irritably.

I interrupted, "She means, give us anything that you haven't cooked yourself. Like bottled juice, and those sandwiches that you order from somewhere else." Our canteen was notorious for the horrible food, and the chef was notorious for his horrible attitude, and he put too much oil in everything. He scowled at us. 

We took our food and walked to an empty table, which stood in full glare of the sun.

"Can't we go to a table that's less sunny?" I asked. I hated the Indian sun.

She rolled her eyes. "Okay, you choose the table. All of them are equally drenched in the sunlight. And our principal is so dumb, it never occurs to him that maybe he should build a shade here or something. I haven't seen a single school where students have their lunch in the open. It's pathetic. Anyway, we were talking about your scholarship. I'm gonna miss you."