Beneath her Brightest Smile

[accuscripter]

" why dont you try keeping a journal?" her psychologist said with a calm composure though she felt pretty irritated by her responses now. she was not giving her any way out to help her and it was tiring now.

" i tried writing one, but then i got scared of my thoughts, so... i burned it" she said with a pout while fidgeting with her hands unconsciously.

"you tried writing..."
"ahh.... i see" psychologist said with a confused expression and then started writing on her notepad, while mumbling what she had just heard her patient say. Honestly she was just doodling on the pages and Jay knew it too well. She had seen the psychologist stretching random lines on the page just to give the impression that she was writing.

just then the alarm went off. " OH... Jay... it seems that's it for today's session, i will see you on next Monday now" ... saying this she shook hands with jay and waved her goodbye, letting out a sigh of relief as she saw jay gone behind the door.

it was jay's 3rd session overall. she was seeking psychological help from her university's counselor, well because these days she was feeling a little too overwhelmed than before. it took her time to decide to seek help. every day she would pass by the counselor's office only to return back. she was feeling that the counselor won't be able to help her in her crying issue. but she still wanted to try. finally, the day arrived when she came to the office and with closed eyes and wavering heart, she said to herself, " I don't want to think anymore! i am going in." finally she knocked the door.

nothing happened. she knocked again and put her ear on the door to hear, if someone is asking her to come in but still, she heard nothing.
she knocked again and as she did, someone opened the door. a beautiful woman in her late twenties with dyed hair opened the door, she looked pretty irritated.

"Who is it..." she shouts as she opens the door.
"Oh ... Jay is that you? dear i have been telling you to come in, you didn't hear?" she said.

"ah... sorry maam, i didn't hear anything..."

"okay no worries come in, take a seat, sit..."

Ms Fernandez motioned jay to a seat in front of her and sat down herself. As they both sat down, Ms fernandez started with a smile, while sipping her tea, " tell me jay how can i help you?"

" maam, hmm... i wanted consultation. i need counselling..." jay said with a reluctant expression.

" Oh... well for that you have to make an appointment with me earlier... have you send me any email?"

"email? no i haven't send any email..." jay said hopelessly

"well then you have to first send me an email and then i will let you know my available time and thats when we will have the session."

"okay maam, i will see you then," saying this Jay stood up immediately and was about to went out, when ms fernandez stopped her from back, " do you have my email?"

"ah... no maam"

"here take it" ms Fernandez wrote her email on a paper and handed it over to her.

that evening, as jay sat down with her laptop on her lap trying to rack her head on what to write in the email.

she started...

Hi Ms. Fernandez...

no no

dear Ms. Fernandez...

excuse me ms fernandez...

damn... its so hard...!!! she was free, she could have held a session then... whats with this email ... its such a hassle... she felt like crying again... no no no ... i need to talk to her... i am becoming weak... saying this tied her head in a bun...

Dear Ms. fernandez,

hope you are in best of health and spirit. I am Jay and i wanted to schedule an appointment for a counselling session with you. kindly let me know your available time slot.

Thank you in anticipation.

Regards
Jay Miller

finally the sessions started... the first day

psychologist asked her, "so introduce yourself and tell me how can help you...? ms fernandez said with a smile...

"i am jay miller i am in 2nd year of university. i am an athletic person and have great leadership qualities ... i really love myself but at time, you see i can't seem to control myself. i cry too much.. as soon as someone say anything to me, that i feel is bad, insulting or harsh i start crying... uncontrollably... especially when the one who says it is a man... be it my father or any other man..."


and as the session started, jay was asked every question, that made her feel uncomfortable from every way possible ... and these questions well were least bit felt relevant to her situation but she answered them awkwardly ...

when you had your first period?

what were you feeling when you got your period?

who helped you in your period?

can you describe your emotions more at that time?

when do you cry?

how do you cry?

since when do you remember you have been crying?

and after a day of counselling she remembered that she was given a diagnosis of Pre-menstrual syndrome. to which she totally disagreed.
and after this third session today she was sure, she dont want to come to this session ever again....



This is my first time writing romance, i dont know how i got so confident so as to write on the sacred topic of love, but yeah here i am ... who knows in between writing romance i switch to thriller, but yeah for now its romance ...hahaha.... sooo... do support me and let me know what do you think , how should i continue the story, bcz you can say this idea is just freshly poured into the bowl i have to add other ingredients... we have to bake this together... so lets get set and be ready to help meee

 

[accuscripter]

"Madam... can I help you with something?"

A young man's voice called out from behind.

Jay turned her head, startled. A man in his mid-twenties stood there, wearing a white lab coat and oversized round spectacles that nearly hid the natural charisma of his sharp features. His hair was slightly messy, like he had run his hand through it too many times today.

"Ah... no, thank you. I can manage," Jay said quickly, lowering her head and moving towards another shelf.

Not this... not this... this? she thought, flipping through the boxes lined neatly in front of her. Nahh...

She was reading the labels of each medicine one by one, slowly but urgently, as if the right one might jump out if she stared hard enough.

As she tugged one box free, the others stacked beside it tilted precariously and then cascaded to the floor with a clatter. Jay gasped and immediately bent down to gather the fallen packages, her heavy backpack swinging forward awkwardly. She struggled to balance the boxes in her arms, feeling increasingly overwhelmed.

The young man had been watching from a distance, visibly anxious, and finally couldn't bear it anymore.

"Madam, please, allow me to assist you," he said, stepping closer.

Jay looked up at him, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. Without a word, she simply lifted the teetering pile of boxes towards him like a silent offering.

A soft laugh escaped the man's lips as he hurriedly took them from her hands and began restoring the boxes to their shelves with surprising speed.

Once everything was back in order, Jay resumed her frantic search, but before she could wander off again, the man moved to stand in front of her.

"Madam... are you looking for something specific? Tell me—maybe I can help," he said, offering what he clearly thought was his most reassuring smile.

Jay, still frazzled, totally and clearly not impressed by his confident smile, rolled her eyes. "Do you think I'd be here if I knew what I wanted?" she snapped.

The man blinked. "...Yes?" he answered, uncertain.

Jay sighed heavily, running a hand through her hair. "I—I don't know what I'm looking for," she admitted, her voice much softer this time.

The man tilted his head slightly, regarding her with mild suspicion. His gaze flickered over her backpack, her hunched shoulders, her obvious distress. Then he leaned down slightly, lowering his voice.

"The feminine products section is... that way," he said, pointing discreetly.

Jay stared at him, stunned—and then burst into laughter. She laughed so hard that tears welled up in her eyes.

The man stepped back in shock, a bewildered smile creeping across his face despite himself.

"What??" he asked, laughing now too, confused but amused.

Jay wiped her tears with the back of her sleeve and, still chuckling, placed a hand on her stomach. "I'm not looking for that!" she said between giggles. "I want something for my stomach."

The man flushed red to his ears. "Ah! Yes, yes—stomach, of course...! Sorry—uh, anything specific?"

Jay took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She spoke more clearly this time: "I said, I don't know what specifically I want!"

"Ahh, yes, you did," he said, nodding quickly. "My bad. Okay, um... any symptoms?"

Jay frowned, thinking hard. "Symptoms..." she repeated slowly. Then, helplessly: "Whenever I'm stressed... or tense... my stomach starts hurting really badly. Then I get this... brain fog? I can't think clearly. And I just... feel horrible."

The man listened intently, nodding with genuine concern. Then, without saying anything, he gestured for her to follow him towards the pharmacy counter.

Jay followed, her steps hesitantantly after him.

From behind the counter, he picked up a small brown bottle and handed it to her.

"Peppermint oil," he said, holding it up. "It's natural. It can help relieve stress, headaches, and ease stomach discomfort."

Then he scribbled something onto a slip of paper and handed it over to her—"here this is the prescription take these medicines according to this."

Jay accepted it, blinking down at the items in her hands. "Thanks..." she murmured, feeling strangely touched by his effort.

She turned and left the store quickly, embarrassed by the scene she had caused.

Outside, she stood under the awning, staring at the bottle and the paper in her hands. The rain had started to drizzle, tiny drops speckling the pavement.

After a moment of hesitation and a few minutes already passed by, she swung the door open again and marched back inside.

The man was just rearranging some boxes behind the counter when he noticed her. He straightened up, puzzled. His expression clearly saying, what do you want now?!

"I—uh... what am I supposed to do with this?" Jay asked, holding up the peppermint oil bottle as if it were some sort of mysterious artifact.

The man smiled warmly, stepping closer. "You can inhale it to help with stress and brain fog. Just a few deep breaths. And if you get headaches or feel sinus pressure, you can apply a little to your temples. Like this."

He mimed dabbing it gently on the sides of his forehead.

Jay nodded slowly, committing the instructions to memory.

"Ahh... thanks," she said again, awkwardly, avoiding eye contact.

Without waiting for further conversation, she quickly exited the store a second time.

Standing outside under the now heavier rain, Jay broke the seal on the peppermint oil bottle. She inhaled the sharp, fresh scent deeply into her lungs once... twice... three times.

Then, carefully, she dabbed a little onto her temples just like he had shown her.

The coolness sank into her skin, and for the first time that day, she felt the tightness in her chest begin to ease just a little.

She looked down at the little bottle and smiled. "Well... that'll help, I guess," she whispered to herself.

Tucking the bottle safely into her pocket, Jay slung her backpack higher on her shoulders and started walking towards the bus station, feeling lighter with every step.

 

[accuscripter]

"Aiyoo! What's that smell?!"

A middle-aged woman clamped a handkerchief over her nose and looked wildly around the crowded bus, causing heads to turn.

The rain outside was relentless, and the bus was packed full, the windows fogged with humidity and the collective body heat of too many passengers.

Jay had managed to claim a good spot by the window. She was resting her head against the glass, her earbuds in, Dandelion by Ruth B. playing softly in her ears, when the woman's loud complaint pierced the air.

Jay barely reacted, choosing instead to continue watching the raindrops race down the window, pretending not to notice the growing commotion.

"Hey, you!" the woman shouted after a few moments when no one responded to her. She flapped her handkerchief dramatically like a flag of distress. "Hye girl! I'm talking to you! Are you deaf?"

Startled, Jay pulled out one of her earbuds and turned toward the woman with wide, innocent eyes.

"Yes?" she said cautiously.

"Are you deaf?!" the woman barked again, her voice shrill.

"Auntie, I was..." Jay lifted the loose earbud for her to see, trying to explain herself with an innocent, almost pleading look.

"Hmph! Disrespectful brat," the woman muttered under her breath, glaring at her. "Because of you, all of us are suffering!"

"Because of me?" Jay repeated in confusion, glancing around. She realized, to her horror, that everyone on the bus was now watching the exchange.

"There's such a bad smell coming from you!" the woman accused, waving her handkerchief in front of her nose. "I can't even breathe here! None of us can! Am I right, everyone?!"

Gasps and murmurs rippled through the bus.

Jay felt like her soul was being ripped apart in slow motion. She stared in disbelief, her heart pounding so loudly she could hardly hear the rain anymore.

"What?!" Jay cried, utterly shocked. This wasn't just embarrassing — this was the sort of thing you remembered in flashes at 3 a.m. for the rest of your life.

"What are you talking about, Auntie?!" Jay whimpered, sniffing herself frantically. "I'm not smelling!!" she cried.

Without warning, the woman leaned in aggressively, sniffed at Jay's collar — and then recoiled so dramatically she nearly fell backward.

"Oh God!!" the woman shouted. "This girl—! She's lying through her teeth! I can smell her even from here!"

Jay's eyes filled with tears. She looked around at the bus passengers — men, women, even a few children — all staring at her like she was some foul anomaly.

"It's... it's not me," she said weakly, her voice barely carrying over the rumble of thunder outside.

But it was too late.

Before anyone could add to the humiliation, Jay jumped to her feet and slammed the stop button, even though her actual stop was still far away.

The bus screeched slightly as it pulled over. Jay, head bowed low, pushed her way through the cramped aisle and stumbled off into the torrential rain.

The bus roared away, leaving her standing alone on the side of a deserted street, drenched within seconds.

She stood there, trembling, feeling the weight of a hundred accusing stares still burning into her skin.

Suddenly, she heard the screech of brakes again.

She turned and saw the bus, now some distance away, pulling over once more. A figure hesitated at the door before stepping down carefully onto the wet pavement.

The girl looked around, squinting through the rain, spotted Jay, and began running toward her.

Jay blinked, confused, as the girl arrived and, without a word, swung open a bright blue umbrella over both of them, sheltering them from the downpour.

The girl, around Jay's age, wore a grey hoodie under a raincoat. Her face was neutral — no pity, no judgment.

Jay stared up at the umbrella, then at the stranger holding it for her.

"Thank you..." Jay mumbled, her head bowed in shame.

"Don't be," the girl said lightly. "If anything, I should be the one apologizing to you."

Jay looked up at her, startled.

"I should've stood up for you," the girl said seriously. "I knew it. I knew it wasn't you — it was the peppermint smell."

"What?" Jay asked, her voice a mix of disbelief and hope.

The girl nodded. "Yeah. I realized it the moment the woman started yelling. That strong minty smell... It wasn't body odor. It was peppermint."

Jay opened her mouth, but the words refused to come out.

The girl chuckled softly. "Don't worry though. I got you revenge."

Jay stared at her, wide-eyed. "You... what?"

"I poured peppermint oil on her," the girl said proudly, her voice a mischievous whisper.

Jay's mouth dropped open in horror and awe. "You poured peppermint oil... on her?!"

"Well, not a lot," she said quickly, as if to reassure her. "Just a few drops. And I gave her the bottle as a gift. Told her it's a remedy for anger and anxiety and of course of the bad smell like a wet dog that came off of her. Told her she needed it more than the rest of us."

Jay covered her mouth with her hands, shocked and struggling between laughter and tears.

"And then," the girl continued, smiling brightly, "everyone started laughing and agreeing. They all condemned her behavior. One guy even said she was being a bully. That's when I slipped out to find you."

Jay let out a choked laugh, wiping her wet cheeks.

"I talk too much, don't I?" the girl said, suddenly a bit shy.

Jay shook her head vigorously. She was overwhelmed — not just by the girl's kindness but by the absurd kindness in the middle of her worst moment.

Then, unexpectedly, Jay started laughing. Really laughing. A bright, broken sound.

But even as she laughed, tears started streaming down her face again, uncontrollably.

"Ahh! Don't cry!" the girl said, panicking. "Oh no—hey, it's okay, okay?? I didn't mean to make you cry!"

"I—I'm not—I'm just—" Jay tried to explain between gasps and giggles, wiping her face clumsily with her sleeves.

"You're happy crying? Sad crying? Which one is it?!" the girl asked, shouting in full panic.

"Both!" Jay squeaked out.


if you like this story than you can read the further chapters ahead at patreon.com/accuscripter and support me by liking and commenting if there is any issue.

 

[accuscripter]

The rain had stopped but the air was chilly. She reached the porch, her drenched muddy shoes squelching and squeaking with every step, hair dripping wet and clinging to her face. The rain hadn't let up, and the wind cut through her like icy knives. Shivering, Jay stepped up to the door and fumbled with the handle. She twisted it—locked. The door was locked.

"What?" she whispered, then tried again.

She rattled the knob harder this time, but it didn't budge. "No one must be at home…" she muttered, her teeth chattering in her mouth, bone hitting bone.

She stepped back and looked around, hoping — praying — for a spare key. Under the flowerpot. In the fake rock. In the usual corner behind the shoe rack. Nothing.

"No keys?!" Her voice cracked with frustration.

Her drenched clothes clung to her skin, and her backpack had soaked through. Cold water dripped down her spine. Her fingers were numb, and now her nose that was now red, was starting to sting. She couldn't take it anymore — the day had already drained her, and this was the final blow.

With trembling hands, she pulled out her phone. Her fingers slipped on the wet screen as she opened her contacts. She tapped on a number saved without a name — just a white heart emoji.

It rang.

Once.

Twice.

No answer.

"Mama… where on earth are you? Why aren't you picking up?!" she cried out into the void of rain and wind.

She hung up and dialed another number, this one saved with a mustache emoji. "Please…" she whispered.

But that number was switched off.

Jay stared at her phone screen as the message "The number you are trying to reach is currently powered off..." echoed in her ears like a cruel joke.

"Damn it!" she cried, her voice breaking. "Why is everyone doing this to me?!"

She dropped to her knees on the porch, the backpack sliding off her shoulder with a dull thud. Her hands covered her face as the tears finally broke free. She sobbed into her palms, her cries muffled by the thunder overhead.

The day had been unbearable. From the awkward encounter in the pharmacy, to the public humiliation in the bus, to the peppermint-girl's strange kindness. All of it — too much, too fast, too heavy. Now, this. Locked out of her own home. Alone in the cold.

The rain started pouring again, harde this timer, soaking her completely. Her breath came out in foggy puffs. Her fingers turned blue. The porch light flickered above, but it didn't help the darkness creeping into her limbs.

It was getting dark and there was still no sign of anyone who could open the door for her. She tried calling her parents again but again no one received her call. Miserable as she was, she got up on her knees and looked at the locked door. She took out a hair pin from her messed up hair and tried unlocking it but to no success.

Soon Jay's head started to feel light. Her vision blurred. She sat down by the door. She couldn't feel her toes. Her ears were still ringing with a high-pitched buzz. She blinked hard, trying to stay upright. She felt sleepy and a current like sensation passed through her head, it was as if water had entered through her nostrils and caused a really bad headache and an electrical sensation. She knew sleeping in this cold would be death of her. Then suddenly she saw someone pointing their torch at her, it caused her to flinch and then she fell unconscious. And everything faded.

When Jay woke up again, she was warm.

She blinked, confused, the dim golden light of her bedside lamp washing over familiar walls. Her comforter was tucked neatly around her. Her wet clothes were gone — replaced by dry, soft pajamas. Her hair smelled faintly of jasmine shampoo.

She sat up slowly, disoriented.

Had that entire day been… a dream?

Then the pain returned. The soreness in her body. The tightness in her chest. The cold remembered in her bones. The humiliation. The peppermint. The bus. The girl. The locked door.

It wasn't a dream.

The door creaked open, and her mother stepped in, balancing a tray with two steaming cups of tea and a small bowl of biscuits.

"Jay, dear," her mother said cheerfully, as if nothing had happened. "Come, let's have some tea."

Jay stared at her, blinking again.

Her mother set the tray down and began arranging the cups and spoons like she was hosting a guest, not comforting her own daughter who'd nearly passed out in the rain.

"Mama!" Jay burst out suddenly, unable to hold it in. "Why didn't you leave the keys behind?"

"I did, sweetheart," her mother said without missing a beat, not even glancing up. "I left them in the usual place."

"I checked!" Jay's voice rose, raw with frustration. "There was nothing there!"

"Then it must be your fault, isn't it?" her mother replied, still smiling. "For not looking clearly."

Jay froze.

The warmth in that smile — wasn't there. It was painted on, like a practiced gesture.

"And why weren't you picking up your phone?" Jay asked, louder this time, her voice cracking at the edge.

Her mother finally looked up and said in a flat tone, "Because I was busy, Jay. Do I really have to explain myself to you now?"

Jay's lips trembled.

Busy?

She lowered her eyes to her hands, which were still shaking slightly despite the warmth of the blanket.

Everything she had felt earlier began to build again — a rising wave of helplessness, anger, loneliness.

She took a sharp breath and whispered to herself under it all, barely audible:

"…I didn't do enough?"

Her mother didn't respond. She was too busy stirring sugar into the tea.

Jay looked out the window. The rain had stopped and it was pitch dark. The night was on top with a chilly air and smell of the mud causing a serenity but inside jay, the storm raged on.

"Here"… her mother offered her a cup of tea.


you can choose to read ahead and support me at patreon

 

[accuscripter]

"Here, have some tea," her mother said, placing the tray on the side table. Her voice was light, smiling — almost too light. Jay reached for the cup silently, not looking at her.

As she brought the warm mug to her lips, the sweet scent of cocoa wafted into her nose, rich and familiar. The first sip was like a small embrace — warmth curling through her chest, momentarily pushing back the chill still lingering in her bones. Cocoa had always been her guilty pleasure. Sweetness, for Jay, was a kind of medicine — a softness she craved when the world felt too sharp.

Now, after the catastrophe of a day she had endured, the cocoa felt like it was absorbing her pain, one swallow at a time. Her shoulders loosened. Her breath calmed. The sting of the bus, the cold on the porch, the locked door — they weren't gone, but they didn't hurt as much in this moment.

Her mother, sitting across from her with her own cup, finally spoke.

"So... how was your day?"

Jay sipped again, her gaze fixed somewhere past the cup. "Nothing. Just as usual," she said quietly.

"As usual? Come on, something fun must've happened," her mother pressed.

Jay shook her head, lips barely parting. "Nah, Mama. Just a normal day."

Her mother gave a dramatic sigh, leaning back into her seat. "Ah, you never share anything with me. And then you say I don't spend time with you."

She stood up with a shrug, lifting her empty cup and handing it to Jay. "Okay, I'm going. It's time for my serial. Finish yours and take these to the kitchen, will you? Wash them too."

Without waiting for a response, she walked out, humming a tune from her show.

Jay blinked after her. She looked down at the two cups, both still faintly steaming, and gave a small sigh before placing her mother's back on the tray. She continued sipping her own, blowing over it every now and then, watching the ripples break the reflection of the ceiling light.

This was... usual. This had become a norm. A smile that didn't reach the eyes. A conversation that grazed the surface but never once dipped beneath. She didn't know what had gone wrong, or when exactly it had, but lately everything felt dull and loud all at once. She was tired all the time. Easily irritated. Too sensitive for everything, and too numb to feel much of anything properly.

And her parents? They just wanted her to do as they asked — nothing more, nothing less. No questions. No chaos. No complaints. All peace and calm no commotions no issues.

Jay stared into the mug until it was empty, then carried the tray to the kitchen. She washed the cups in silence, and put them back on the stand.

As she returned to her room, her phone buzzed on the nightstand. The screen lit up. And it said.

Unknown Number
1 new message
Hi.

Jay stared at it, her thumb hovering over the screen. Her brows furrowed slightly. No name. No emoji. Just one simple word.

She blinked, wiped her hands on her pajama pants, and slowly unlocked the phone.

Should she reply? Should she ignore it? She thought as she sat at the edge of her bed, phone in hand, thumb hovering just above the glowing text bubble.

Hi.

Just two letters, yet impossible to ignore.

She stared at the screen, feeling the pulse of her own uncertainty rise in her throat. It wasn't the kind of "Hi" you could instantly reply to with a "Hello" or "Who's this?" — not when your mind was already a tangled mess of the day's weight.

Her first thought was: Spam?

But no. There was something about it… something deliberate. No promotional links, no aggressive greetings or emojis. Just... Hi.

Second thought: Someone I know? But who?

She scrolled up — there was no previous conversation thread. No saved name. No hint.

Her mind started running wild — as it always did when the world finally got quiet and her thoughts got loud.

Maybe it's that guy from the pharmacy? No... he didn't ask for my number, did he? No way. That'd be weird. Nah its not him … then…. Yeahh….Maybe the girl from the bus? But how would she have gotten my number? Unless... maybe she asked someone? But why would she text now?I don't even know her… or do i????"

Jay frowned slightly.

She brought her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on them, still holding the phone in one hand, the message glaring back at her in the dim glow of her room. She could still hear the faint buzz of her mother's TV serial in the background, the laugh track jarring against the stillness in her heart.

She closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth, just like that peppermint oil man had told her to do. Inhale for calm. Exhale for clarity. It had helped then, hadn't it? She thought. And then suddenly took her bag and started searching into it. Finally she took out the medicine pouch she had got from the pharmacy and the peppermint oil that had embarrassed her today. She took her prescribed medicine and hid the rest of the medicine and applied peppermint oil on her temples, then she took her phone. Her fingers tapped gently on the edge of the phone.

Well the the truth was… it was not that jay didn't care but actually she cared too much… she hadn't received an unexpected message — not a real one — in quite some time. Every notification on her phone lately had been a deadline, a reminder, or a request. Nothing simple. Nothing that felt like someone just… wanted to say hello.

Finally she mustered up the courage and typed slowly.

Paused.

Deleted.

Typed again.

Paused.

Then finally, after one more breath, she replied:

who?

She used all small letter to give the idea that she didn't care. The message sent with a soft whoosh, and Jay stared at the screen, heart ticking louder with every second that followed.


read ahead and please support me at patreon.com/accuscripter... your support mean everything to me and help me continue and strive for myself...

 

[accuscripter]

The alarm rang at exactly 5:30 a.m.

Jay groaned, barely managing to drag herself upright, woke up to the bombing sound of the alarm that was nothing short of giving her a PTSD soon. Her eyes burned with sleep, her body still aching from the previous day's emotional whiplash. But she had a morning class, and morning classes didn't care about yesterday. With visible irritation she rose up from the bed. And then she shuffled to the bathroom, half-asleep, and squeezed toothpaste onto her brush. As per her odd little ritual, she let it sit on her teeth before she brushed and rinsed…so she wandered through the house like a ghost — slow, foggy, detached in the early hours. It wasn't until she passed by her bedroom door that she suddenly remembered.

The message.

Her eyes snapped wide open as she turned and rushed to her bed. She grabbed her phone, the screen lighting up her face in the dark room. She opened the chat.

No reply.

Not even a 'seen.'

Jay stared for a moment, lips parting in disbelief. "Seriously?" she muttered to herself. "Not even seen yet?"

She tossed the phone onto the bed with a frustrated sigh. "Whatever," she mumbled, heading back to finish brushing and get ready.

After making some toast and tea, and wrapping herself in her hoodie, she left for university.

By the time she reached the campus gate, Jay glanced at her phone again and realized something.

She was early. Way too early.

The sky was still a murky blue, the sun barely threatening to rise or shine She walked inside, her footsteps echoing in the empty corridor. Only the security guard gave her a nod as she passed.

The building was dark, blanketed in sleepy, creepy silence.

Jay turned on her phone's flashlight and ran her fingers along the cool walls, searching for the switchboard. A click, a blink, and then — light flickered on, casting long shadows down the hallway.

She made her way toward the familiar corridor. One by one, she turned on the lights as she walked, until she finally reached G-15.

She pushed the door open, turned on one corner light that bathed the acoustic-padded room in a soft amber glow, and sat down with a tired sigh. Her head dropped to the desk. She closed her eyes.

And soon her head felt relax, her eyes felt heavy and then she started to drift.

Suddenly a she felt a tap on her shoulder that startled her, but he ignored it. She was feeling way too sleepy to get bothered by this.

But then another tap rattled her and this time a firmer grasp made sure that she look up. She lifted her head, groggy-eyed, and turned.

A girl was sitting in front of her. Jay squinted to focus, her eyes were still blurry and then froze. Her mouth opened in surprise. "Y-You… aren't you…?"

The girl tilted her head with a teasing smile. "Yeah, it's me. You don't know me?"

Jay blinked, still waking up. "You're the girl… from the bus?"

The girl chuckled softly. "Venelope," she said, holding out her hand.

Jay, still flustered, took her hand and shook it warmly. "I… yeah. Hi… I'm Jay. Sorry, I didn't recognize you right away."

Venelope gave her a half-smile. ""you're Jay ohhh… I see … so you are Jay!" she mocked.

Of course I know you are jay… You really thought I covered you with my umbrella without knowing who you were?"

Jay's cheeks went pink. She laughed awkwardly, tucking her short hair behind her ear. "I guess I did…"

Venelope shrugged playfully. "I've seen you around. In this class. You always look like you're thinking ten things at once."

Jay gave a sheepish smile — it was embarrassingly accurate.

A quiet pause settled between them. Then Venelope glanced at the dimly lit room.

"We're way too early, huh?"

Jay nodded.

Venelope stretched and suggested, "Wanna walk around a bit? Grounds should be empty this early. Might help us both wake up."

Jay hesitated, checking her phone. She wanted to rest in this warm classroom, without being disturbed.
Hmm… I think I will stay here… you can go take a round I will keep you seat." Jay said.

Venelope sighed. And then without waiting for Jay's reply she held her hand. "C'mon." she tugged her gently from the seat.

"Ah…Well… okay."

And then Jay followed silently after her.

The air outside was crisp. A light breeze carried the scent of dew and earth. The sky was slowly turning gold and peach above the silhouette of the university buildings.

Venelope started walking backward along the path between the bushes, hands tucked in her sleeves, hair bouncing with each step.

"So," she said, looking at Jay with curious eyes, "why'd you choose Botany?"

Jay blinked at the question.

"I… guess I like plants," she said plainly.

Venelope laughed. "Well, yeah, that's the whole degree. But I mean, why? What drew you to them?"

Jay looked ahead at the wet grass, thinking.

"I think... I like that they're alive, but they never complain. You don't even notice them most of the time. But they still do so much. Quietly. Without asking anything in return."

Venelope looked at her for a moment, her expression softening.

Jay added, "And maybe… maybe I just wanted something that wouldn't leave. You know? Something that would grow if I gave it time. And care."

There was a pause.

"I get that," Venelope said finally.

You do?" jay asked with her eyes wide opened.

"Maybe more than you think." Venelope said as she turned her face away from Jay.

Jay glanced sideways at her. Their eyes met for a second, and Jay felt something shift — just a little — like a page turning in a story that hadn't started yet.

Then, in the quiet morning air, Venelope asked, "Wanna water the greenhouse with me after class today?"

Jay blinked, caught off guard. "You have access?"

Venelope winked at her. "I have connections, My Lady."

Jay smiled and following the dramatic exchange bowed and little and said, "Alright then, My Lord, ready at your command."

Then both laughed out loud, not noticing how the sun had finally risen.


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[accuscripter]

After a long, exhausting day of lectures, practicals, and note-taking, Jay found herself being led quietly by Venelope to a part of the university she had never explored.

Behind the Botany Department, nestled between old brick walls and a cluster of shady neem trees, was the botanical garden — a green world humming softly beneath the evening sky. It was surrounded by climbing ivy and latticed glass. A narrow path led to a greenhouse tucked away like a secret.

Venelope unlocked the door with an old key, gave Jay a mischievous look, and pushed it open.

The scent hit Jay immediately. The greenery, the colors, the smell, the scene everything caught her. She stepped inside, her eyes widening like a child at a carnival. And the only word she could say out loud was, "Woah…"

Venelope these are hundreds — no, thousands — of plants, she exclaimed excitedly.

There were all sort of plants herbs, succulents, exotic flowers, medicinal shrubs, tiny saplings, creepers in hanging baskets. The air was thick with a mixture of sweet, citrus, musky, and earthen aromas. Something smelled like mint. Something smelled like rain. Something smelled like fruits and some didn't smell at all but looked so beautiful

Jay was wide-eyed. She moved slowly, reverently, as though afraid to disturb the serenity around her.

"This is your secret garden?" she whispered.

Venelope grinned proudly. "Kind of. My escape. Welcome to my not-so-secret hideout."

She filled a metal watering can at a corner tap and began watering a row of dainty purple flowers. Jay rushed to her side.

"What are you doing?!" she hissed, glancing nervously at the door. "Someone might catch us!"

Venelope blinked, then burst into laughter. "Jay. My sweet Jay," she said, shaking her head, "I told you I have connections. No one will catch us, even if they do they cannot do anything to us. I have special permission to be here. I didn't tell you how I got admitted in this university did i? well never mind it's a story for another time" she questioned and answered herself.

Jay stared at her. "You were serious?"

"I never joke! Not especially when its about plants," Venelope winked. Seeing Jay's suspicious look she laughed and said, "I swear on these flowers! Now stop whispering. We're not doing anything illegal. But if you want we can do that too."

Venelope laughed out loud. Jay was totally not convinced. She was staring at laughing venelope who was looking even more mesmerizing in this beautiful place. She handed Jay another watering can. "Here help me then I will take you to do something illegal", she laughed again as she handed Jay the can.

Jay hesitated, then smiled as she took it. "No, thank you I am good here. "Jay exclaimed with a smile. "Alright then."

Together, they watered plants in quiet companionship. The earthy scent of wet soil intensified, calming Jay's nerves more than she expected. It felt… grounding.

Jay broke the silence. "Why are you in Botany?"

Venelope looked up, her face lit by the golden glow filtering through the glass. "I love interacting with plants," she said casually.

Jay chuckled. "No, seriously."

But something in Venelope's eyes shifted. Her expression softened, and she spoke again — quietly this time.

"I do love them, Jay. Plants... they don't hurt me. Atleast they don't"

Jay paused. Something about her tone unsettled her.

"They don't betray. They don't pretend. They don't lie to your face and twist your words behind your back," Venelope continued. Her hand brushed over a small sapling. "They reciprocate my care. They keep my secrets. They're not hypocrites. They don't demand explanations."

Jay was silent. Something in her chest stirred — an ache she had buried.

Venelope smiled faintly. "They protect me."

Jay tilted her head. "Protect you?"

Venelope's grin returned. "Remember the peppermint incident yesterday on the bus? The one that worked on that creep?"

Jay nodded.

"I made that myself," Venelope said with pride. "Distilled the oil from my own plants here. Pretty handy, huh?"

Jay laughed softly, impressed. "That's actually really cool."

Venelope stopped by a plant and bent slightly, motioning for Jay to join her. "Come here. Do you know what this one is?"

Jay leaned in. A white tag read: Yucca Filamentosa.

"Yucca," she read aloud. "Adam's Needle?"

Venelope nodded. "This plant… it's found in isolated, abandoned places even graveyards. There's one by my mother's grave."

Jay froze.

Venelope's voice was steady, but quiet. "It's a survivor. Its leaves were used to hang meat — tough and fibrous. You can't even cut it with a grass trimmer. It shreds everything."

She ran her fingers gently across the pointed leaves.

"They say it represents purity and strength. Its sword-like leaves symbolize protection. And its white flowers — they're like innocence that refuses to die, even in a graveyard."

Jay's throat tightened.

Venelope continued, her voice distant. "Yucca thrives in death. It grows in forgotten places, unwanted places. Places where nothing else dares to live. But it survives. Beautifully."

Jay couldn't speak. Her fingers trembled around the watering can.

"I guess," Venelope said, brushing her thumb over the flower's edge, "that's why I like it. Because sometimes, when the world forgets you… you grow sharper. And you stop needing people."

A sharp tingle crawled across Jay's cheek.

She reached up and brushed her hand over her skin — something warm. A tear.

Venelope turned to her, eyes glistening too. "You're crying, Jay."

Jay looked up at her, her voice cracking. "I… I don't know why…"

But the dam was breaking. The weight of the week, of the months before it. The ache of being unseen and lonely in a world full of people. The constant pretending and keeping a façade.

Before she could say more, Venelope pulled her into a hug.

Jay tried to smile, "what are you doing?" but then suddenly she collapsed into her, the sobs shaking her frame like an earthquake finally arriving after too long a silence.

"It's okay," Venelope whispered, her voice gentle. "You don't have to explain."


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[accuscripter]

"Jay… it's okay… stop crying…"

Venelope's voice was gentle but firm. She held Jay close, her arms steady even as Jay trembled. It had already been a few minutes. Jay wasn't sobbing loudly anymore — but the tears continued silently, falling as if her body had forgotten how to stop.

Venelope kept hugging her, one hand softly rubbing Jay's back in small circles. Her other hand reached toward her backpack beside the flowerbed.

"Here," she said softly, pulling out a slightly melted bar of chocolate. "Have some."

At first, Jay didn't move — it seemed like she hadn't even heard her. But after a beat, she slowly pulled away, her face blotchy and her eyes red. She didn't speak. She just sat on the floor of the greenhouse, breathing unevenly, trying to gather herself.

Venelope sat beside her and unwrapped the chocolate, breaking off a piece and offering it wordlessly.

"I know it's silly," she said, giving a half-smile. "But chocolate always calms me down. It's like… therapy. With sugar."

Jay took the piece slowly, holding her stomach as she did. A faint wince passed across her face — the emotional strain was taking its toll physically now.

Venelope noticed. She didn't mention it.

Instead, she kept her voice calm and soft. "Jay… you don't have to say anything. But if you ever want to… I'm here. You can tell me anything. I can't promise I'll have solutions — but I can promise I'll listen. And I'm a great secret keeper. Just so you know."

Jay didn't reply, but her fingers twitched slightly, still clutching the bit of chocolate.

"Sometimes," Venelope added, "saying it out loud clears your head. Like… letting air into a room that's been locked for too long."

The silence hung gently between them. Not heavy. Just… real.

Eventually, Venelope checked the time on her phone. "Jay, it's getting late. We should go."

She stood and extended her hand. Jay hesitated for a moment before placing her hand in hers and rising to her feet. Her movements were slow but deliberate. Her eyes still glistened, but her face had softened.

She dusted off the dirt from her clothes and whispered, "Thanks, Venelope."

Venelope smiled warmly and gently patted her head. "Don't cry anymore, okay?"

Jay gave a small, embarrassed laugh. "I'll try."

Back home, everything was the same — painfully, exhaustingly the same.

Her mother sat in front of the television, eyes fixed on the screen with a half-smile. Her father, as always, was scrolling on his phone, thumb flicking up endlessly.

No one asked her how her day was.

Jay didn't say a word. She went straight to her room, dropped her bag on the floor, and collapsed onto her bed — not even bothering to change. Her eyes shut the moment her head hit the pillow.

The next morning, light spilled into her room through the uncovered window.

Jay opened her eyes and bolted upright.

"Shit—!"

She ran to the bathroom, panicked, brushing her teeth hastily — no time for her usual paste ritual today. Her face was splashed, her dress half-wrinkled but passable. She snatched her wristwatch and glanced at it.

7:35 a.m.

And then she stopped.

Her eyes narrowed. She looked again.

Sunday.

"Damn it!" she groaned, and slumped dramatically back onto her bed. Her arms flopped to her sides as she stared at the ceiling. "Ugh…"

She lay there for a while. Restless. Not exactly sleepy. Not exactly energetic.

Just… empty.

Eventually, dressed and still not quite sure what to do with herself, she stood up, grabbed her bag again, and decided — she'd go to the library.

As she reached the front door, her mother called out from the lounge, not looking away from the screen.

"Where are you going? It's Sunday, isn't it?"

"I'm going for some work," Jay replied curtly while putting on her shoes.

"Why are you going to the library? Don't you have all your books?"

"I do."

"Then?"

"For some extra knowledge," Jay answered flatly.

Her mother frowned. "You have internet, don't you?"

Jay didn't reply. She was finished with the laces and about to leave.

But then — a hand grabbed the back of her bag.

Jay whipped around. Her mother was holding her with that same casual sternness — as if this tug-of-war was part of her daily routine.

"For heaven's sake, Mama!" Jay snapped. "Let me live for a while! Let me breathe! How much do you want to hurt me?!"

And with that, she yanked her bag from her mother's grip and walked out, not looking back.her mother all stunned and shocked looked as Jay disappeared from her sight and maybe slipped from her hands as well…

The library greeted her with silence and a comforting scent — that familiar blend of old and new books, quiet pages being turned, ink dried long ago. It felt like entering a temple where knowledge was sacred and time slowed down.

Jay took her token from the librarian with a polite nod and began wandering through the aisles.

First the academic section. She skimmed past the science shelves, the botany books, some journals. Then she moved on to the history corner, glanced at old texts, moved past to the kids' section — oddly comforting in its brightness — and finally found herself in fiction.

She wasn't a fiction reader. Not really. All her life had been about performance, competition, staying ahead. Fiction felt… indulgent. Like a luxury for people who had time to stop and feel.

But today something drew her in. Her eyes lingered on a shelf with titles she'd never noticed before. She tilted her head and pulled one out at random.

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn.

The cover was simple. A single tree in a cityscape. Something about it felt familiar.

She flipped to the first page. Then the second. She sat down. She was drawn to this so simple book from 1943, a semi-autobiography by Betty Smith.

She was about to start reading when suddenly her stomach growled louder than anything in the silent section, to the point that someone called out to her, "Here."


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