Ms Rafa was holding an interactive history session, as we had been told before she would. We were supposed to talk about Quaid e Azam's sayings and our future plans for the country. I was feeling exceptionally fidgety and anxious. I couldn't concentrate and kept forgetting what I would say, when I got called out. I couldn't even roll the pen between my fingers without dropping it every three seconds, a habit I have had for a long time.
'Faux Shén Tóng'.
The words kept luring me away from my span of attention.
Unable to restrain myself, I took the paper out from my pocket. I glanced at it, then at the board, then at Ms Rafa.
I didn't even know what it meant.
The number of times I had been addressed with the title, just kept growing with time. I contemplated for a few minutes, zoning out completely, trying to figure out why Dad wouldn't tell me what it meant. Everytime I asked, he would shake me off saying that it was better not to know. He still held that view even after forbidding me to go out without at least one of his bodyguards. I was also strictly prohibited from venturing out to feed stray animals, a greatly missed hobby of mine.
I stared at the sandy textured, pale yellow paper, nestled in the palm of my hand which bore the letters in bold. It was handwritten but the writing was the same as the previous two, so was everything else about it.
I had found it in the passenger seat of the car today, when Mike was driving me to school. I had wondered who put it there and whether we had a rat in the staff, the whole journey.
My thoughts got jumbled and shifted to recent occurrences, and I remembered about the string of misfortunes, doggedly tagging along with me, for the past week.
From discovering broken glass and dead birds in the garden to twisting my ankle to watching lightening strike a car, catching colds and braving possible motor accidents, I felt stuck in a mishap.
I had never cared for tarot readings, fortune telling or Feng Shui but these incidents just seemed to be signalling towards a bigger, more frightful omen. I couldn't help but think that I might be looped in some sort of dark, horrendous sequence.
I wondered if the title was connected to any of it.
Mowad rudely asked what our future had to do with history, and we all turned to look at him. I did so subconsciously.
"For a starter, I would like to ask you, how you would have a future without having a history? Let's say you don't play cricket, you won't be a cricketer in the future. Or simpler still, you can't study high school without passing middle school. The past is the foundation of the future," Miss Rafa said, walking over to him.
"You can't become an adult without being a child." Fayz added.
He always got bullied for being a teacher's pet, but never took the hint. Sometimes, I felt sorry for him, but maybe he was a people pleaser or it was his coping mechanism to survive.
"Just like you can't die without being born. And you can't be born without..." Noah, half whispered, loud enough to be heard.
Ms Rafa turned to him with a glare as everyone snickered. Everyone except for Fayz and I. The class subdued with a look at Ms Rafa's stern face. Noah threw me a questioning look, which I ignored by averting my gaze.
"What about the present then?" Mowad persisted.
"The present is the only one which is indefinite and changeable. The present only becomes the foundation and has a solid impact on the future, once it becomes the past," Ms Rafa replied.
Mowad pondered over her words briefly and finally nodded in agreement, as a groan escaped from the back.
"Why did we dive into philosophy?" someone said, with a hint of annoyance.
"Alright Mowad, now what saying do you have for us today?" Ms Rafa asked, swerving back to the topic.
"I do not believe in taking the right decision, I take a decision and make it right," he said, on spot.
"Said by Jinnah." Ms Rafa added, eyeing him.
"Said by Jinnah," he agreed, grinning.
Noah raised his hand in the air, and Ms Rafa motioned for him to speak.
"Do not forget that the armed forces are the servants of the people. Said by Jinnah," he quoted.
An eerie silence befell the classroom and I turned to give him a look, which he returned defiantly.
If he had gotten kicked out, he would have earned it.
However, Ms Rafa, although commentless, accepted it because it was a genuine quote.
"Lezim, what about you?" Ms Rafa turned to me.
I stood up in haste, dropping my notebook and the paper. I swallowed and immediately stooped down to pick them up, fumbling with the notebook till I finally found the right page.
"Knowledge is more powerful than the sword, so spread knowledge in your country. No one can defeat you." I read.
Ms Rafa nodded in approval.
"By Jinnah." I added in a small voice, remembering.
I sat down with the feeling, Ms Rafa was intentionally being nice to me these days. Maybe, she could tell I wasn't acting sane. Probably everyone could. I had changed a lot in the past month. My grades had dropped, I had quit the Sports Club and barely took interest in anything anymore.
I dissolved into my thoughts once more, trying to find a way to unravel the mysteries surrounding me. Suddenly, it struck me that I was actively being stalked, followed and targeted, and that I had succumbed to the situation as if it constituted normalcy. On the other hand, it was actually Dad who wanted to ensure that I lived in almost the same state and manner as before, except for the newly heightened security, which wasn't paying off, and wasn't proving to be enough.
I had been wondering what the perpetrator or perpetrators wanted from me, could have wanted from me, when I was brought back to my senses by a janitor.
"Lezim Nahian!" he called out, from the doorway, after Ms Rafa gave him the permission to.
When I didn't respond, Ms Rafa looked at me.
I shifted in my place, unable to speak.
Noah stood up and pointed towards me. "Yeah, it's him."
I nodded and struggled to my feet, as Ms Rafa inquired what the matter was. The janitor explained that I was called to the headmaster's office because someone had come to pick me up.
I pushed the note back into my pocket, and started walking towards the door. Noah gave me another questioning look and this time I shrugged. I didn't know anything. I was just as clueless, I had just as many questions, but Dad believed that leaving things unexplained would somehow allow me to live my regular life.
I quietly followed the janitor to the headmaster's office, rubbing my cold hands together so that the friction could bring some warmth back into them. It was useless.
In the headmaster's office, I found Mr Elaf seated opposite Sir Neman, who looked as cheerful as ever. Mr Elaf, an old employee of Dad's and the manager of most of his businesses, sometimes also ran private errands for him.
I greeted both men and Sir Neman ushered me towards the vacant seat beside Mr Elaf.
"I got quite concerned about the sudden request and naturally, my mind first went to the current affairs in the State. I was afraid something else might have cropped up," he said, then turned to me to continue.
"You know the gist. The Azadi (Freedom) March, wildfires, floods, bombings, target killings, street crimes, deaths and continuous social unrest. Not to mention, the local elections are just around the corner. It has been more chaotic than usual."
I nodded rigidly, unsure about whether I had to respond.
"Thankfully, Mr Elaf here informed me, it was just a personal matter and nothing to worry about."
I nodded again.
"He has also filled out the application, so you may take your leave."
I nodded for the third time.
Mr Elaf thanked him, we shook hands with him and exited the office.
I rushed to my classroom, more questions gnawing at my brain, grabbed my books, stuffed them into my bag and left without a backward glance. Maybe I should have shrugged at Noah once more, to let him know that I still had no idea what was going on. It just didn't cross my mind then.
Mr Elaf was waiting for me with Mike, standing by the car. As I approached them, Mike put down a stray tabby, he had been holding in his arms and caressing.
I came to stand in front of him, he looked up and we greeted each other. My shoulders sagged as I looked away. After we climbed into the car, Mike in the backseat with me and Mr Elaf in the front, beside the driver, I turned to ask him the obvious.
"It's not the kind of serious you think it is." He said, waving me off, just as I opened my mouth to speak.
"Do you know what it is about?" I asked in a low voice.
"Your Dad's getting you a permanent bodyguard," he said, glancing at me before staring out of the shielded window.
I had been expecting that for a while, but maybe the new note discovery triggered the decision.
"Do you know who it is?"
"You shouldn't worry about that."
"So, you know."
"Did I say that?"
"Just tell me." Mike looked at me, then at Mr Elaf and the driver. He leaned over and whispered in my ear.
"Zady. Zayden."
"Zayden?"
"You should be happy your Dad didn't choose Harry. You would be dead earlier than the assassinators had gotten you. Harres has a very short temper," He whispered pointedly, before glancing out of the windows on either side, scanning the surroundings as we sped along the comparatively light traffic on the main road.
"I am just surprised it's not you or Rad."
"Zady is second in rank, don't underestimate him. And forget about Rad, you aren't qualified enough to demand him. You know there are just four first ranks in the whole department, and Rad is like a newly found gem."
"You're a second rank too, it's not about the ranks. I just know you guys a bit."
"If you are worrying about getting along with him, don't. You guys will become better friends than we are. It's actually typical how your Dad chose him, knowing he would be both understanding in the situation and best suited to guard you."
I raised my eyebrows at him, quizzically.
"Oh, you know, he had a rather tragic past. His parents were killed and he has no family now. I am sure you already know about all that, though."
"I tried talking to him once, we didn't even have a proper conversation."
"Jasser said that too, that it took some time for him to befriend Zayden. It's probably because he's more loyal to your family than a dog would be to his master. Maybe he thinks it would be disrespectful to break the decorum or whatever."
"So, I will have to avoid talking to him?"
"Quite the contrary. Just be like you usually are. He will come round, once he understands that you would appreciate the companionship. I think he can help you out of your depression too."
"I don't have depression."
"Anxiety then. He's a killjoy though, he doesn't appreciate jokes at other people's expense and one can never smoke a cigarette around him. But it's free therapy for you. What's to lose?"
"So, should I accept him as the guard?"
"Hm, I really think you guys would get along. He can grasp your situation best, since he's been through some terrible shit, himself."
I shrugged, looking out of the window, and relaxed into the leather seat. Maybe there was stuff we had in common which we could unveil once we got on better terms.
Not more than five minutes later, we stepped out of the car, in the parking lot of Nahian Enterprise, Dad's largest business network.
Mike opened and closed the door for me, one hand on his pistol, high alert, while Mr Elaf led us inside.
I walked down the tiled corridor. The air purifier was running so strongly that it even seemed to clean oxygen. I found it harsh breathing in the atmosphere, and my throat became parched within a few seconds. The contrast between my classroom and the waiting room felt worlds apart, with the air conditioner seeming a little too cold, the metallic chairs too hard and the light bulbs too bright, blaring directly into my eyes from everywhere. It was too neat. I felt like I had entered an interrogation cell. My eyes fell on the security camera and I found that it wasn't recording. I made a mental note to tell Dad about it later.
I asked Mike if I could get some water and he told me to wait there, while he fetched it.
Mr Elaf had headed to inform Dad about my arrival and to check if he was free from his meetings, as soon as we had entered the building.
I lazily sat and watched the receptionist take a man to guide him to his destination.
Breaking out of my trance, a couple of minutes later, I cracked my knuckles nervously. I happened to realise that I was alone. The sound of the time ticking from my watch seemed to echo in the whole room. There was only one door, which overlooked the reception area. I massaged my neck to ease some tension, when I heard distinct footsteps. I blinked. My hands poised in mid air. The footsteps came closer, slowly as if to generate suspense. I gulped. It could have been Mike but I had a feeling, it was too early for him to be back already. It could have been a client or employee but my sixth sense told me that it wasn't and my heart rate picked up speed.
As a man dressed smartly in a suit and tie made his way inside, my hands dropped to my sides weakly, as if in submission. There was a strange control in the manner he walked. It was like he could be sprinting but still manage to look like a professional. Maybe he was a successful entrepreneur. But he wasn't.
He smiled at me and I sat up straight. When he saw my uneasiness, he extended his hand towards me.
I didn't shake it. Instead, I mechanically got up and turned towards the door.
"Not so quick, Faux Shén Tóng."
I froze on the spot. He walked over to the front, facing me. I blinked twice.
He extended his arm once more, but this time he had a gun in his hand. A 9mm, I recognised. However, he didn't point it at me.
He pointed it at his chest and fired. Just a single time. A creepy smile emerged on his face as he coughed once. A drop of blood landed on the floor, by my right foot. Then he fell on top of me. My knees gave way. I bit my bottom lip hard as his body shook in pain. He was writhing like a snake, when it sheds its old skin. He gurgled on his shortcoming breath, but the smile wouldn't leave his face. With the last of his strength, he forced the 9mm into my hand. I didn't resist. I watched in horror as a drop of saline, a lone tear slid down his cheek. Then, he stopped moving. He just died, leaving me alone once more, sitting in a small pool of dark red blood.
My whole body went cold and I lost all feeling, as if someone had just dumped a whole bucket of icy water over me. However, from within I was ablaze. The receptionist came in first. She didn't yell. She put a hand on her heart, the other on her mouth, her eyes bulging out of their sockets, then backpaddled out of the room as fast as she could.