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.


as always you can choose to read ahead at Patreon.... plzzz support me at this link i would love to see you over there

 

[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."


as always you can choose to read ahead at Patreon.... plzzz support me, link i would love to see you over there

 

[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."


as always you can choose to read ahead at Patreon.... plzzz support me, link i would love to see you over there

 

[accuscripter]

Jay flipped to the first page. Then the second. She sat down cross-legged on the padded wooden chair tucked into the fiction aisle, her back pressed against the bookshelf.

She looked at the title again.

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn.

A simple book. From 1943. A semi-autobiographical novel by someone named Betty Smith. She'd never heard of it before nor she ever heard about author. But something about the quietness of the cover, the endurance it hinted at, the way the tree stood alone in the city on the cover page —made her want to read. She held the book carefully, like it was something precious.

Just as she turned the first page, her stomach growled.

Loudly. So loud it echoed in the quiet aisle. Her face flushed immediately. She clutched her stomach as if that would silence it.

Then a voice whispered, gentle and amused:
"Here."

Jay turned to see a boy, a few shelves down. A crisp dress shirt. His hair were messy not the type to look poor but especially intentionally made dishevelement. Spectacles slightly too big for his face. He held out a granola bar, hesitating only long enough for her to notice the subtle kindness in his gesture.

Jay blinked. "Oh, no—thank you, I'm okay," she whispered, her voice tight with embarrassment.

But her stomach betrayed her again, growling even louder this time. She hadn't eaten anything since yesterday morning. Her body was demanding attention she hadn't given it.

The boy still held out the granola bar.

She reached out, slowly, and took it. She wanted to say thank you but her voice betrayed her and she couldn't utter anything.

When her eyes finally met his, recognition struck her.

It was him.

The pharmacist. From the drugstore. The one who had silently pointed her about the female products sections once, when she stood frozen and confused looking for something for her stomachache. The one who had made no comment, just scanned and bagged like it was nothing.

He smiled sheepishly now and looked down, his cheeks flushed slightly. She realized she must be blushing too, from ear to ear.

Before either of them could say anything, his phone buzzed. He glanced at it, stood, and mouthed a quick, "Sorry," before walking away toward the front of the library.

Jay sat motionless, watching him leave. She hadn't even asked his name. she kept on looking after him until her disappeard.

Then she looked down at the granola bar. Her fingers unwrapped the granola bar slowly. She took a small bite. Something about it made her smile. A small, genuine, shy smile.

She took another bite, then returned her attention to the book. She started reading…

Chapter One.

"There's a tree that grows in Brooklyn. Some people call it the Tree of Heaven. No matter where its seed falls, it makes a tree which struggles to reach the sky."

Jay paused.

She reread that line.

"It grows in boarded-up lots and out of neglected rubbish heaps, and it is the only tree that grows out of cement."

A tree growing from cement? She thought to herself. Then she took out her mobile and searched tree growing out of cement. She say many instances where a tree, plant or vine came out of solid rocks or cement. But not something specific that grows out of the cement. So she stopped searching and got back to the book.

The chapter followed a young girl named Francie Nolan, her Saturday afternoons, her tin-can collecting, her little rituals of beauty and resilience in a world that offered so little. Jay felt something familiar in every small detail.

Francie used to picked flowers from trash heaps. Jay remembered that she had also done that once, behind the schoolyard, pulling out a stem of dandelions and pretending it was a gift bouquet. Jay was find of giving and receving gifts but the only problems was that there was no one to receive or give.

As she closed the first chapter, her throat tightened. She gently laid her head down on the table, her arms folded under her forehead. She didn't sleep. She just breathed — trying to steady herself.

After a few minutes, she sat back up and turned the page.

Chapter Two.

This chapter focused on Francie's father. Johnny Nolan. A singing waiter with dreams too big for the fragile man he was. Francie loved him. Desperately. Even though he was unreliable, always late with money, often absent , he saw her. He believed in her.

Jay blinked quickly. Her chest began to ache.

She didn't know why she was reacting this way. The book wasn't dramatic. Not yet. No big tragedy had happened. And yet… her throat hurt.

She was trying not to cry. Her nose sniffled softly, every few minutes. Her fingers pressed the corners of her eyes. She read on.

"Francie looked at her father and didn't see that he was drunk, that his blue eyes were bloodshot, that his mouth was slack. She saw only the handsome man who sang songs."

Jay's breath hitched but she kept on reading, her pool of tears, ready to fall any moment. Soon she reached to chapter 3 and over an hour had passed since she sat down.

The aisle was quiet around her — but inside her, she was struggling to keep quiet she wanted to cry aloud.

Chapter three detailed Francie's mother, Katie. The way she worked her fingers raw to keep the family afloat. Her silence. Her strength. Her coldness.

Jay's hands trembled. She had reached her limit. A tear slipped out. Then another.

She didn't even try to stop them anymore. She couldn't bring herself to read more. And then she tightly closed her eyes. She was crying silently yet bitterly.

"Here."

She jumped slightly at the voice and slowly opened her eyes, trying to wipe her eyes with her sleeves.

The voice was familiar. She turned.

It was him again.

The boy in the too-big glasses.

He wasn't looking at her directly — just sitting a few chairs away now, bent over a thick pharmacy textbook.

He held out a small pack of pocket tissues, still not meeting her eyes.

Jay hesitated, then took them with trembling fingers.

She wiped her tears. Then her nose. She wasn't even embarrassed this time.

She just sat there quietly with the tissues and the book in her lap, her eyes still glistening.

She looked over at him once. He looked up too. They didn't smile. They didn't do anything just kept looking at each other, before jay silently looked away, a silent exchange between two quiet souls.

Jay picked up her bag put the book back at its place and almost rushed towards the exit of the library.

as always you can choose to read ahead at Patreon.... support me, link i would love to see you over there

 

[accuscripter]

Jay submitted her library token at the counter, holding her bag tightly close, like it might dissolve if she let go. Her legs carried her out of the building almost on their own, and by the time she stepped into the soft light of the afternoon, she was nearly panting.

What am I feeling?

She didn't know. A strange cocktail of heaviness and something light — not quite sadness, not quite joy — just a funny feeling and a fullness she didn't have the words for. She started walking by the road side to calm herself instead of crying. She didn't want to cry. Not again. Not in the middle of the street. So she continued to stroll by the roadside. Just some enough time to catch her breath, to let the weight of the novel settle inside her without crushing her. Cars passed slowly. People moved like background noise.

She put on her earphones and let the music find her. Randomly, Takeaway by The Chainsmokers and Illenium began to play. The haunting melody filled her ears like fog over a restless lake.

"Hey, hey, hey

Where do you think you're going?

It's so late, late, late

What's wrong?

I said, "I can't stay, do I have to give a reason?

It's just me, me, me, it's what I want"

Her eyes glistened again, the song told her story of what she had just faced a few hours ago with her mother. She felt embarrassed. It felt everything she was coming across was bringing her back to how she shouted in front of her mother being disrespectful and disobedient. What she didn't want to accept was the fact that she had all the reason and right to be free and do what she wanted. But before she could lament on all that suddenly she felt, a gentle tap on her back.

Her heart skipped — thumped — beat.

Him?

She turned around quickly, half-hopeful, half-terrified.

But no. It wasn't him.

It was a little girl. No older than eight. Her cheeks were slightly smudged with dust, her hair tied into two uneven pigtails. She wore a long faded frock, and her arms were full of flowers.

Bright, bold, beautiful flowers.

Jay removed one earplug. "Hey."

"Flowers?" the girl offered sweetly, lifting the bouquet a little higher.

Jay smiled and glanced down. Roses, marigolds, carnations — but among them was a small, awkward-looking sapling in a black plastic bag, its thin stem rising with a few scattered leaves. Without any flowers.

It didn't belong in the bouquet. It looked misplaced. Jay felt drawn to it so she picked it up.

"What's this one?" she asked curiously.

The girl squinted. "I don't know. I picked it up this morning. It was just lying on the side when I was collecting flowers. I think it's… ugly."

Jay frowned slightly. "Ugly?"

The girl shrugged. "Nobody buys it. You can take it for free if you want…"

Jay chuckled. "But you're selling everything else."

"It's not pretty like the others."

Jay opened her bag and pulled out a few folded notes. "Well, I think I like this one the most." She pressed the money gently into the girl's tiny hand.

The girl's eyes widened as if someone had handed her gold.

"You're giving me this much?" she whispered.

"Yeah," Jay said with a soft smile. "It deserves to be bought too, doesn't it?"

The girl stood frozen, staring at Jay like she wasn't real.

Jay took a few steps away but then stopped, something pulling her back. She turned around, and the girl was still there — standing perfectly still, staring at the money in her hand, her bouquet now slightly tilted from the sapling's absence.

Jay walked back, squatted down to her level, and gently tapped her cheek.

"Listen, no one is ugly," she said firmly.

The girl blinked up at her, unsure.

Jay placed a finger over her own chest. "But this — this thing inside us — it can get ugly. When people are cruel, selfish, or mean, when they hurt and insult everyone, call others ugly, when people cry because of them, when people move to the verge of ending their lives because of them, that when their heart starts to stink ."

The girl stared, her small brow furrowed. She pressed her tiny hand to her chest and asked in a trembling voice, "Is my heart… ugly?"

Jay gave a short laugh and brushed the girl's hair behind her ear. "No, buttercup. Only people who hurt others, insult them, or call them names — they get a rot inside here ," she tapped gently.

"But… my mama hits me sometimes, she hurt me," the girl said with quiet certainty. "She's ugly in there?"

Jay's heart squeezed. She took a breath.

"No, sweetheart. Your mama hits you because she probably doesn't know another way. She might be tired or scared. Sometimes people end up hurting others when they don't have anyone to help them when they hurt or when they have no words."

The girl frowned. "But it hurts."

"I know," Jay said softly. "But do you do bad things when she tells you not to?"

The girl thought, then slowly nodded. "Sometimes."

"See? She wants you to be better. That doesn't make her ugly."

There was a long silence.

Then Jay grinned. "But wait… if I remember correctly, I heard a little girl just now say this sapling is ugly…" she said, holding it up with mock horror.

The girl's mouth dropped open. "Nooo! I didn't say that!" she giggled.

Jay raised an eyebrow playfully.

"I mean," the girl corrected with a giggle, "this is the most beautiful plant ever!"

Jay laughed. "Nice save. But you don't have to lie."

The little girl then quickly pulled a white lily from her bouquet and, before Jay could react, tucked it behind Jay's ear.

"Hey! What are you doing?" Jay said, startled, her hand reaching for it.

But the girl had already spun around and dashed away, giggling wildly.

Jay stood there stunned for a moment, then slowly lowered her hand and let the flower stay. The wind brushed her cheeks. The music still played faintly in one ear. Now If we have each other by Alec Benjamin was playing in the background.

"When the world's not perfect,

when the world's not kind

If we have each other,

then we'll both be fine"

…

She looked down at the sapling in her hand. Still bare. Still waiting to bloom.

"Just like me," she whispered, and started walking again, the lily still tucked behind her ear…


you can read further chapters ahead at patreon accuscripter

 

[accuscripter]

Jay submitted her library token at the counter, holding her bag tightly close, like it might dissolve if she let go. Her legs carried her out of the building almost on their own, and by the time she stepped into the soft light of the afternoon, she was nearly panting.

What am I feeling?

She didn't know. A strange cocktail of heaviness and something light — not quite sadness, not quite joy — just a funny feeling and a fullness she didn't have the words for. She started walking by the road side to calm herself instead of crying. She didn't want to cry. Not again. Not in the middle of the street. So she continued to stroll by the roadside. Just some enough time to catch her breath, to let the weight of the novel settle inside her without crushing her. Cars passed slowly. People moved like background noise.

She put on her earphones and let the music find her. Randomly, Takeaway by The Chainsmokers and Illenium began to play. The haunting melody filled her ears like fog over a restless lake.

"Hey, hey, hey

Where do you think you're going?

It's so late, late, late

What's wrong?

I said, "I can't stay, do I have to give a reason?

It's just me, me, me, it's what I want"

Her eyes glistened again, the song told her story of what she had just faced a few hours ago with her mother. She felt embarrassed. It felt everything she was coming across was bringing her back to how she shouted in front of her mother being disrespectful and disobedient. What she didn't want to accept was the fact that she had all the reason and right to be free and do what she wanted. But before she could lament on all that suddenly she felt, a gentle tap on her back.

Her heart skipped — thumped — beat.

Him?

She turned around quickly, half-hopeful, half-terrified.

But no. It wasn't him.

It was a little girl. No older than eight. Her cheeks were slightly smudged with dust, her hair tied into two uneven pigtails. She wore a long faded frock, and her arms were full of flowers.

Bright, bold, beautiful flowers.

Jay removed one earplug. "Hey."

"Flowers?" the girl offered sweetly, lifting the bouquet a little higher.

Jay smiled and glanced down. Roses, marigolds, carnations — but among them was a small, awkward-looking sapling in a black plastic bag, its thin stem rising with a few scattered leaves. Without any flowers.

It didn't belong in the bouquet. It looked misplaced. Jay felt drawn to it so she picked it up.

"What's this one?" she asked curiously.

The girl squinted. "I don't know. I picked it up this morning. It was just lying on the side when I was collecting flowers. I think it's… ugly."

Jay frowned slightly. "Ugly?"

The girl shrugged. "Nobody buys it. You can take it for free if you want…"

Jay chuckled. "But you're selling everything else."

"It's not pretty like the others."

Jay opened her bag and pulled out a few folded notes. "Well, I think I like this one the most." She pressed the money gently into the girl's tiny hand.

The girl's eyes widened as if someone had handed her gold.

"You're giving me this much?" she whispered.

"Yeah," Jay said with a soft smile. "It deserves to be bought too, doesn't it?"

The girl stood frozen, staring at Jay like she wasn't real.

Jay took a few steps away but then stopped, something pulling her back. She turned around, and the girl was still there — standing perfectly still, staring at the money in her hand, her bouquet now slightly tilted from the sapling's absence.

Jay walked back, squatted down to her level, and gently tapped her cheek.

"Listen, no one is ugly," she said firmly.

The girl blinked up at her, unsure.

Jay placed a finger over her own chest. "But this — this thing inside us — it can get ugly. When people are cruel, selfish, or mean, when they hurt and insult everyone, call others ugly, when people cry because of them, when people move to the verge of ending their lives because of them, that when their heart starts to stink ."

The girl stared, her small brow furrowed. She pressed her tiny hand to her chest and asked in a trembling voice, "Is my heart… ugly?"

Jay gave a short laugh and brushed the girl's hair behind her ear. "No, buttercup. Only people who hurt others, insult them, or call them names — they get a rot inside here ," she tapped gently.

"But… my mama hits me sometimes, she hurt me," the girl said with quiet certainty. "She's ugly in there?"

Jay's heart squeezed. She took a breath.

"No, sweetheart. Your mama hits you because she probably doesn't know another way. She might be tired or scared. Sometimes people end up hurting others when they don't have anyone to help them when they hurt or when they have no words."

The girl frowned. "But it hurts."

"I know," Jay said softly. "But do you do bad things when she tells you not to?"

The girl thought, then slowly nodded. "Sometimes."

"See? She wants you to be better. That doesn't make her ugly."

There was a long silence.

Then Jay grinned. "But wait… if I remember correctly, I heard a little girl just now say this sapling is ugly…" she said, holding it up with mock horror.

The girl's mouth dropped open. "Nooo! I didn't say that!" she giggled.

Jay raised an eyebrow playfully.

"I mean," the girl corrected with a giggle, "this is the most beautiful plant ever!"

Jay laughed. "Nice save. But you don't have to lie."

The little girl then quickly pulled a white lily from her bouquet and, before Jay could react, tucked it behind Jay's ear.

"Hey! What are you doing?" Jay said, startled, her hand reaching for it.

But the girl had already spun around and dashed away, giggling wildly.

Jay stood there stunned for a moment, then slowly lowered her hand and let the flower stay. The wind brushed her cheeks. The music still played faintly in one ear. Now If we have each other by Alec Benjamin was playing in the background.

"When the world's not perfect,

when the world's not kind

If we have each other,

then we'll both be fine"

…

She looked down at the sapling in her hand. Still bare. Still waiting to bloom.

"Just like me," she whispered, and started walking again, the lily still tucked behind her ear…


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[accuscripter]

Jay waited a few more minutes, tapping her fingers absentmindedly on the edge of her phone. The hunger was gone now — replaced by a slow-building tension she couldn't quite name.

With a sigh, she rolled her eyes and opened Chrome. "Might as well figure out what mystery plant I just adopted."

She walked to the window where the sapling stood silently, cradled in the jug of water. The sunlight filtering through the curtains made the little stem glow slightly. She bent forward and said with a smile, "shall we?"

Then snapped a quick picture, then returned to her bed, cross-legged, her phone resting on her knees.

She opened Google Lens and uploaded the photo.

Searching…

Before the results could load, a notification buzzed across the top of her screen.

Unknown Number: You really don't know me?

Jay's breath caught.

Her fingers hovered above the screen. Her stomach twisted.

The message blinked on her screen, casual yet chilling. Her heartbeat suddenly felt louder in the quiet room. She swallowed.

It wasn't like she hadn't been waiting. She had. Desperately, secretly. But she had also expected — or maybe hoped — that silence would mean it was over. That she wouldn't have to face whatever this was.

But now it was becoming something else she got scared as she read the notification. She thought she read wrong or maybe there was more to this suspicious message. She quickly tapped the message open and scrolled it bottom to top.

The number was still saved as nothing — no name, no hint. Just digits. And this sentence it was cutting her.

You really don't know me?

She glanced around her room, as if suddenly aware of her own vulnerability, she felt as if she was getting stalked as if someone was watching her. She instantly got up and crossed the room in three quick steps, tugging the curtains closed tight, hiding from the outside view, then she went to her room door and looked around, and seeing that no one was there closed her door slowly. The room was dim now...

She returned to the bed, folding herself into the corner as if that could shrink her anxiety too.

With hesitant fingers, she typed:
Jay: Do I know you?

The reply came instantly.
Unknown: When you asked me "who" earlier, I thought you were being sarcastic. But… you really don't know me?

Jay frowned, nerves fraying now.

She stared at the message, rereading it, trying to hear a familiar voice in the tone. But it felt vague. Off. A little too rehearsed, "it seems rehearsed… this person must have typed before and was waiting for my reply … is this person try to hack me?" she thought out loud... "is this someone messing with me? Any of my old classmates? Is this a scam or a prank?" she said again.

She racked her brain. Friends from school. College acquaintances. People she'd ghosted. Numbers she might've saved once and deleted later. Nothing. Nothing felt like this. She was confused…

So finally, with careful words, she replied:

Jay: Respectfully, I don't recognize you. Great apologies. But… is there something that I can help you with?

The typing dots appeared.

Then disappeared.

Then appeared again.

Then again disappeard

And finally—

Unknown: No.

That was it. Just… No.

Jay stared at the single word, blinking.

She paused, considering what to say, then decided she was done playing along with vague weirdness. And sighed a breath of belief.

Jay: Ah…Okay then. Well I guess… There's no need to continue this conversation. Many apologies again.

Her tone was formal, distant. She felt a little cold writing it — but it was the only way to guard herself.

But to her mild surprise, the reply came but it wasn't bitter. It wasn't possessive or dramatic or harsh or anything that could anger her… instead she felt a little more troubled. She re-read the message.

Unknown: Sure.

And Just like that. And it was over. As she read this … she let out a long, slow breath she didn't know she was holding. Her thumb hovered over the message thread. She clicked on the three dots and pressed Delete Contact.

Gone.

Finally. She dropped the phone on the mattress beside her and ran a hand through her hair, rubbing at her temple.

"Why do weird things always happen when I'm just trying to do normal stuff?" she muttered, half-laughing, half-exhausted.

She returned to her phone and reopened Google Lens.

The search had loaded now.

Dogwood Tree
Dogwood flowers and trees hold symbolic meanings of rebirth, purity, resilience, and even sacrifice. The tree's ability to thrive in harsh weather and its blooming in the spring after winter are often seen as representing strength and the triumph of life.

Jay read the words slowly, almost aloud.

"Rebirth. Resilience. Purity…" she murmured.

Her gaze shifted toward the sapling again. It sat peacefully in the glass jug near the window, its thin stem just swaying slightly where the air crept in through the curtain seam.

First that book. Now this. Again with the themes of rebirth. Again with purity.

It was starting to feel like someone was stitching symbols all around her, and she hadn't been paying attention.

Jay pulled the blanket up around her legs and leaned back, still staring at the tiny plant. It looked plain. Weak, even. But apparently, it had the strength to grow through storms and winters and still bloom.

"Are you like me?" she whispered. "Or am I like you?"

The sapling didn't answer, of course.

She reached over, gently rotating the jug so the sapling faced the light a little more directly.

"You're not ugly, I knew I was right no one is ugly…" she said. "You're just…you're just not grown yet…I would love to see what kind of specie of cornus you become when you will grow up… then this pot will be too small for you?? Will it not be??? I think I should look for a different place for you to help you grow well…" jay continued to say

"you know … you need ample space, water, light and air and of course love to grow", she said with a smile while looking at it… as she said this, her mood changed… she repeated what she just said. But then her stomach started to hurt. And before she could think more she was rolling with pain and tears were coming out of her eyes with the severity and intensity of the pain.


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[accuscripter]

Jay doubled over on the bed, clutching her abdomen as a sharp wave of pain sliced through her. She rolled onto her side, curling in on herself, her knees drawn up, as if the posture alone might shield her from the torment inside. Her breath came in short, shallow gasps. Her hands trembled. Her spine twitched with every jolt of pain, each one a stab through her center.

She had known this kind of stomachache before — familiar and cruel. It came without mercy, often in the stillness of night, after the weight of a long day or some quiet emotional blow. But today... it came out of nowhere, ambushing her during her rare moment of peace. She had been enjoying some self-time. A little solitude. A breath. And now she could barely breathe.

She tried to think — to calculate the origin — to trace why she was suddenly feeling this pain. Maybe something she ate? Maybe not eating at all?

Then a flash of realization struck her like a second knife.

She hadn't taken her medicine. And like a cruel echo came the next blow: She hadn't eaten either.

Her stomach twisted, not just in agony, but in confusion — a body rebelling against itself. Her pulse pounded in her ears. The ceiling spun slowly, blurring at the edges of her vision.

She whimpered.

"I… can't…" she gasped, the words dry and cracking under their own weight.

Her entire body was tensing and curling, like she was folding in on herself. But she needed the medicine. She needed it now.

Dragging herself up with what little strength she had, she reached for the edge of the bed. Her bag — her lifeline — hung there, just a few feet away, swaying slightly from the bedpost like it was mocking her.

Jay stretched her arm. Her fingers brushed the strap.

She pulled. Nothing.

The bag didn't move. It was heavier than it should've been, or maybe she was weaker than she realized. Another wave of pain racked her core and she hissed, biting her bottom lip until it almost bled.

Her knees pressed into the mattress. Trembling, she forced herself upright, bracing against the headboard with one hand.

Black spots danced across her vision.

"Just—get the damn bag," she whispered, her voice cracking.

Summoning every scrap of will, she lunged forward and yanked the bag toward her. It slid off the post and collapsed onto the bed with a dull thud.

Fingers shaking, breath staggered, she clawed at the zipper. It felt like trying to open it underwater.

"Come on, come on, come on," she murmured like a mantra.

The zipper gave way. Inside was chaos — pens, scrunched receipts, keys, wrappers. She fumbled through it like a person half-drowned.

Then — there. The orange pouch.

She grabbed it. Yanked it open. The silver blister pack inside glinted mockingly in the light.

The tablets were sealed tight. Her fingertips slipped, useless. The foil refused to tear. It was thicker than it should've been — or maybe her fingers had forgotten how to function.

She pressed. Nothing.

Pressed harder. Still nothing.

A sob escaped her lips — enough to shatter the heart of anyone who if saw her in this state.

"Please," she whispered, tears stinging the corners of her eyes. "Please, just—"

Desperate, she bit into the edge of the pack. Tore it open with her teeth like a cornered animal. The foil gave with a sharp rip and the tablet finally popped free into her trembling palm.

She held it up, ready to swallow — and then stopped.

Water.

She looked around. Her blurred gaze scanned the room. Nothing. Not a glass. Not a bottle.

Then her eyes darted toward the window. The water jug — the one with the sapling in it — sat there on the sill, just a few feet away, bathed in soft daylight.

She tried to rise. Her legs buckled and her body screamed with every pore that I cannot.

With a broken sound, she collapsed backward onto the mattress, her arm draped over her stomach.

The kitchen was too far. The hallway too long. Her bones too heavy. The jug too distant, like it belonged to another world.

With a deep, broken breath, Jay threw the tablet into her mouth and swallowed it dry, chasing it with nothing but her own saliva. It stuck in her throat like chalk. She coughed — gagged — forced it down.

Her head dropped forward. Her whole body throbbed.

She curled up again, face pressed to the sheet, her arms hugging her midsection like she could hold herself together.

Minutes passed. Or maybe hours. She didn't know.

Tears leaked quietly, one after another, tracing warm lines along her temples into her hair.

Her breath was ragged. Her mouth dry. The pain still burning.

Then something caught her eye near the pillow.

The small glass bottle. It was Peppermint oil.

She blinked to think clearly.

Without thinking, her hand reached for it — slow, uncertain. She fumbled the lid open and brought it close.

The sharp menthol smell filled her senses instantly. She inhaled. Deep. Again. And again. Each breath piercing her nose, cutting through the haze like a cold wind. She pressed the bottle against her lips — not thinking at all about any pros or cons and took a small sip.

It burned her mouth. The taste was Bitter and sweet all at once. Her body jerked slightly.

Her hand flung out, pushing the bottle away from her in panic. It rolled across the bed, landing safely on the bedside table.

"No," she whispered hoarsely. "Don't… be stupid."

Her fingers trembled around the sheets. She curled into herself once more, heart pounding, muscles twitching.

"I don't want this," she whispered into the pillow.

No one answered. No footsteps. No door creak. No voice asking Are you okay?

Just the echo of the ticking clock. And the far-off noise of the world outside her four silent walls.

Jay's limbs ached with the weight of her own body. Her breaths grew shallower.

Her fingers loosened. Her shoulders sagged. And slowly, quietly, like a light flickering out...she fell unconscious — her body still, her face tear-streaked — a single droplet trailing down from the corner of her eyes.


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[accuscripter]

A soft white halo floated in front of Jay's eyes—glowing, trembling orbs that danced and blurred across her vision. She blinked slowly, once… then again and then again. The ceiling above her was unfamiliar, bleached in harsh white light, and the scent of spirits and antiseptic medicine clung to the air like a thick mist.

Her body felt heavy. Weighted, and as she tried to move she realized, she couldn't move. She tried to shift slightly, and a jolt of awareness shot through her when she noticed the cannula wedged into the back of her hand, attached to a drip bag filled with a yellow liquid that swayed ever so gently beside her on a stand. She stared at it through a haze, trying to process where she was and why she felt like she had just fallen out of herself.

As she tried to lift her head, a firm hand gently, but decisively, pressed her back against the bed. As the figure came close to her, she realized that it smelt different than the surrounding. It was something earthly fresh. A comforting scent, something similar to a smell that fills the air before a stormy rain is about to hit. She was busy thinking all this despite her wrecked condition when she heard,

"You should sleep more," a voice said, low and warm. "Don't worry… I'm here."

The hand slid into hers, holding it with quiet certainty.

Jay's sluggish mind fumbled with the sound, she got back to reality, trying to place the voice. Her ears buzzed faintly, but she forced herself to think, forced herself to reach out in her mind for familiarity.

Dad? she thought slowly. Is this… is this Dad? When did he come home? Where's Mom?

Her gaze darted weakly around the room. She was searching for any hint of familiarity, any sound or scent that might ground her. The voice returned before her thoughts could settle.

"Your fever has gone down quite a bit," the person said. She heard movement—felt the bed shift slightly—and then the figure stood directly above her, blotting out the irritating halos of light in front of her face with its silhouette. "Where are you looking?" the voice asked gently, amused. "Do you want something?"

The hand still held hers as the figure leaned closer, the lights casting his face in partial shadow. Jay tried to squint, to get a better look, her vision swimming trying to identify the figure.

But then, softly, the person placed an index finger on the bridge of her nose. "There, there," he murmured. "Don't squint your eyes like that. You'll get wrinkles."

He laughed, light-hearted and boyish.

Jay got shivers, "Not Dad. Definitely not Dad." Her mind raced.

That voice… that laugh…

"This isn't Dad," Jay whispered to herself, heart thudding unevenly. "Who is this? Where am I?"

Panic crawled up her chest, but she was too weak, her body still sedated and sluggish. She wanted to sit up, to demand answers, but her limbs had turned to stone. The stranger's hand gently stroked her forehead now, a rhythmic, almost hypnotic motion that dulled the edge of her fear.

She tried to resist the drowsiness curling around her like a lullaby, but the weight of the medicine and exhaustion was too strong. Slowly, involuntarily, Jay drifted into unconsciousness once more… as the figure remained by her side, quietly stroking her hair.

………….

Jay awoke with a sharp gasp.

Darkness had settled around her like a big black shawl. The soft hum of nighttime filled the room. The clock still ticking and fan creaking slowly over her head. She was back. In her own room. On her own bed.

She sat upright, heart pounding. Her stomach…?

She pressed a tentative hand to her abdomen. No pain.

"I was dreaming?" she murmured, confused. "That was… a dream?"

No this can't be! the details are too vivid to dismiss. The sting of the cannula. Here…"she touched her hand and found no pain or any sign of any needle insertion"

"The scent", she said to herself , "The voice. The peppermint oil. My bag!"

She stood slowly, her legs still unsteady, and glanced around. Everything was exactly where it should be. Her bag hung from the bedpost. Her room neat, untouched. No wrappers. No torn medicine packs. The sapling near the window.

"Mama! papa! Are they home?!", she muttered, walking quietly out of her room towards the main entrance door. The key set jingled quietly on the hook by the door. Everything normal. Everything in its place. She wandered back to her room, unsettled.

"That… it felt so real! I can't believe it was a dream…"

Jay sat on the edge of her bed, hugging her knees to her chest. Her eyes scanned every surface—under the bed, in the drawers, on the floor. Nothing. Not a trace.

"Was I even in pain? That was also a dream?!"she again put her hand on her stomach…then it was such a terrible dream…" she whispered.

But jay was feeling uneasy the events felt too real to be called a dream! Her body still remembered the tiredness she felt. The echoes of that pain, the fear, the helplessness. Her throat was still dry. She could still taste the bitterness of that dry-swallowed pill, the scent of peppermint ghosting around her nose.

"Damn," she muttered, letting herself collapse backward onto the bed.

She closed her eyes, trying to push the images away. Well I think it was just a dream. Ugh! That's cruel, lord!"

Then she suddenly looked at her hand, and slid her other hand into it. It felt familiar…it was a big hand… I was warm" as jay thought, she felt heat out of her cheeks. It felt too real that someone held her hand…

"Eww… gross… what are you thinking jay! Are you too lonely!" jay shivered at the mere thought and then stroking her chest she said, "calm down Jay Miller it was just a dream!"

Soon Jay's breathing slowed and her body relaxed as she smiled at her own childish dream and thoughts soon while smiling she drifted into the second sleep of the night. And the quiet of the night wrapped itself around her like a blanket.

But in all this suspicious hustle and bustle, jay didn't realize that there was a shadow outside her window, the figure beyond the glass had leaned forward. Just a tilt of its head. As though in thought. It didn't move until Jay's breathing slowed and her eyes slipped shut… and she finally fell asleep

As it realized that jay was asleep it bowed its head gently. And then vanished into the dark.


you can choose to read ahead at patreon accuscripter, i will be forever grateful for your support in my journey

 

[accuscripter]

"You're finally here! I have been waiating for ages! Why are you late today?" Venelope cried, looking at Jay with a face full of horror and concern with her arms wide opened.

Her voice sliced through the morning din of the classroom like a spark of electricity, the second Jay stepped into the room, still fumbling with her satchel strap, she was ambushed by venelope but she felt visibly amused but this attention.

"Jayyyy—wait, Jay, what happened to you?! You look… awful! you look tired… are you okay?" Venelope's voice rang out across the classroom as she bombarded her with hundred questions all at once.

Before Jay could even open her mouth, Venelope was already striding toward her, eyes wide with alarm. "What's with these dark circles under your eyes? Why are you looking so pale? Why are you looking so weak? Your lips are so chapped… you are looking like a ghost! Wait are you even breathing properly girl! Why are you—"

Jay chuckled, raising a brow as she dropped her bag on her desk. "I think someone missed me way too much over the past two days, haven't they?"

"Of course I have! How could I not?" Venelope forgetting jay's looks and getting back to the point of how much she missed her, replied, cooing like a baby before theatrically resting her head on Jay's shoulder, looping her arms around hers in an overly affectionate hug.

Jay burst into laughter. "aww…My little baby really missed me!" she giggled, trying to hold her balance as Venelope leaned harder, pretending to sleep with a mischievous smile tugging at her lips.

The two girls looked like a pair of kittens tangled together in mischief and affection, but there was a tremor behind Jay's smile. She sighed, half-playful, half-wearied. "But yeah, you're right… I am feeling weak. I don't know why. Something happened but I am not sure if it really happened…I think I am loosing it" she said with a sarcastic laugh.

Venelope suddenly straightened, her eyes narrowing with worry and all playfulness replaced with concern. Without warning, she cupped Jay's face between her palms, turning her gently left, then right. Jay's eyes shot wide open. "What are you doing?" she stammered.

"Be quiet. Let me take a look," Venelope commanded.

Jay blinked, startled, as Venelope examined her like a worried grandmother—scanning her from brow to chin, squinting into her eyes, checking every angle as if trying to read an illness hidden in her bones.

"Venelope…" Jay whispered, flustered, trying to escape her grasp. "Let go—people are watching—"

"Shh!" Venelope snapped, scanning Jay with narrow eyes looking like a mother inspecting her child for any injury. "Be quiet. Let me check."

Jay froze. Her friend's voice held enough gravity to make her sit perfectly still. She suddenly felt like a schoolchild again, being scolded.

And just as the silence became too thick— something unexpected entered their space. Right in the narrow gap of air between them, popped a face.

"ahm…I hope… I'm not interrupting…" A face—serious, slightly amused—had slid in between their shoulders, leaning down to inspect the scene like a spectator at a crime scene. It was Professor William.

"Professor!" Venelope yelped, clutching her chest as if her soul had fled her body. "You scared us to death!"

The man's head remained right there, between them, tilted with a comical confusion as he blinked with his narrowed eyes, genuinely puzzled, as if he had walked in on a cult ritual.

Then the professor raised an eyebrow and straightened up. "You should be scared," he said bluntly. "such kid of behaviour"he said while pointing finger at them, "is not acceptable in my class….Continue this somewhere else or outside of my lecture."

Jay's face turned scarlet. Her mouth opened to protest, but nothing came out.

"Sir! You are misunderstanding! We weren't doing anything!" Venelope insisted, throwing her hands in the air.

"Yeah, whatever. Open your books," Professor Raman said flatly, already turning back toward his desk.

Venelope pouted. "Sir, it's not even time for class yet…"

He glanced at her with a completely unreadable expression, then looked down at his wristwatch. After a moment's pause, he muttered, "Let's start after ten minutes."

Venelope didn't waste a second. "Sir, I was just checking her—look at her … she looks so pale and sick!" she said, clearly not done with the conversation.

This time, Professor Raman didn't respond immediately. Instead, his head tilted up slightly, and he looked first at Venelope, then shifted his gaze to Jay. Jay all embarrassed was melting into her seat.

"You do look sick," he said, matter-of-fact. "Are you alright?"

"Y-yes, sir. I'm good," Jay answered quickly, straightening in her seat.

He gave her a look that said he didn't fully believe her, but he didn't press. "Well, if you say so… But if you have any problem later, just get up and leave. No need to ask for permission."

With that, he returned to reading a set of notes he had laid out on the podium.

Venelope leaned over again and whispered dramatically, "Sir, can I go with her?"

Without looking up, the professor asked dryly, "Why? Are you her mother?"

"Yes, sir! She is my child, my blood tears and prayers! I'm responsible for her!" Venelope declared with mock seriousness, puffing her chest like a proud parent.

As professor heard this, he exhaled the slowest, most exhausted sigh known to man, and chose not to respond, as if accepting his defeat. He simply stared into the middle distance, as if contemplating every career choice that brought him to this exact moment, to deal with such nutcases…he rubbed his temples and returned to reading. Jay on the other hand, covered her mouth with her hand in order to hide her laugh, while Venelope burst into laughter and hid under the table.

Soon, one by one, other students trickled into the classroom, settling into their seats, filling the hall. The quiet buzz of chatter rose, the scraping of chairs and rustle of pages filling the air and after a few minutes, the lecture began.


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[accuscripter]

"Okay, now tell me what happened."

Venelope turned the key and gently pushed open the squeaky door to the greenhouse, their secret hideout. And as usual the smell of soil, warm glass, and faint floral smell filled the air like a balm.

Jay stepped in behind her, blinking at the golden sunlight filtering through the dusty panes. Her hand brushed over a hanging vine near the door as if to ground herself.

Venelope turned around and placed her hands on her pelvis. "Don't think you'll get away with a cute laugh or another joke this time. I've been waiting since you said you don't know whats going on with you

Jay blinked, a little startled, though she had a hunch that venelope will ask her. "ahhhh... so you remember what I said?"

Venelope narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. "Of course I remember. You didn't said it a year ago… you said it this morning! Bytheway even if you said it a year ago I would still remember..." venelope said as she rolled her eyes like thinking something… then suddenly said… Jay Miller! DON'T change the topic!!! You were pale as skim milk and looked like you hadn't slept in a week. I may act like a butterfly, Ms, but I've got a brain, just so you know."

Jay chuckled softly, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I just… didn't think you would actually remember what I said uselessly."

"Well, I did, and now we're here." She gestured dramatically to the overgrown greenhouse. "So, tell me what happened… why such a havocked condition?"

As they sat down together on the old wooden bench under the climbing roses. Jay's fingers trembled slightly as she fidgeted with a cracked clay pot beside her.

"I… I don't know where to start."

"hmmm… start with whats disturbing you… because I can see something is not setting right with you, something happened this weekend didn't it?" Venelope offered gently, brushing a leaf off Jay's shoulder.

Jay exhaled and began, slowly, as if testing her own memory. "So, I went home. No one was there, as usual. And I thought maybe… maybe someone would notice I wasn't feeling well. But instead, I got scolded for something petty."

Venelope's brows furrowed.

"Then I thought the next day was Monday and got up early to go to uni, but turns out it was Sunday. I'd lost track of time… I was almost ready… but then I realized so… I thought of going to the library."

Venelope was listening to her with a calm expression. Jay continued

"I still hadn't eaten. I just… wandered to the library. I sat there for hours, flipping through a novel … I can't seem to remember the name… it said something like a tree in Brooklyn… I don't remember clearly…it was good, and it struck a chord. Then something happened and I came out…and started walking by the road."

Jay paused, her voice growing thinner. "On the way back, I saw a girl. A little one, maybe seven or eight, selling flowers by the roadside. All of them were beautiful—but there was this one tiny plant. It looked strange. Different. I don't even know what it was. But I bought it."

Venelope tilted her head, smiling softly.

Jay gave a small laugh. "I brought it home. My parents were having lunch. They didn't offer me any. Not that I was hungry at that point."

She fell quiet.

Venelope waited. Then reached out and gently touched her shoulder.

"That's not everything, is it?"

Jay looked away.

"Jay… if you believe I can help you, then you can choose to be honest with me."

Jay swallowed hard and looked at Venelope… there was misery in her eyes floating like tears... "There was a dream," she finally whispered. "Or at least I think it was a dream. I don't know anymore. I was in a hospital. There was a drip. A man held my hand and told me not to worry. I thought it was my dad. But it wasn't. I… I still remember how his hand felt."

She looked down at her own, curling her fingers slowly. "And I was in so much pain. My stomach hurt so bad, I couldn't move. And then I woke up. In my room. And everything was back to normal. Like nothing had happened. The dream felt so real… I really was in pain…but then as I woke up in my room, I think it was all a dream…"

Venelope was quiet for a while. Then, softly, "Jay… why didn't you tell me?"

Jay looked up, ashamed. "I didn't think you'd believe me. I didn't even believe myself."

Still, you could have told me …" Venelope insisted.

Jay's head was down… she was embarrassed, "I didn't have your number…"

Venelope's face softened. She reached into her bag without a word and pulled out a small lunch box. She held it out, but not forcefully just enough to catch Jay's eye.

"I cooked this today. And I really need someone to taste it. You know, in case I accidentally poisoned myself."

Jay blinked. "You cooked?"

"Hey! I can cook… occasionally." She gave a theatrical sigh. "Please, madam, take pity on a beginner and have a bite."

Jay's eyes flicked to the lunchbox, then back to Venelope's sincere smile. Her stomach gave a small growl. She felt shy, almost guilty accepting it. "You're not pitying me, right?"

Venelope laughed. "I never pity. I pamper. Big difference."

Jay hesitated, then took the box. Inside were small, slightly lopsided sandwiches. They weren't perfect, but they smelled like warmth and safety.

She took a bite. Then another.

Venelope watched her quietly, hiding her grin as Jay visibly relaxed, the stress melting from her shoulders.

"Not bad, huh?" she asked casually, nibbling on a sandwich herself.

Jay gave a small smile, her lips full. "Actually… they're amazing. You made these for me?"

"No," Venelope said airily, "I made them for the Queen of England but figured she was busy, so you're the second-best royal I could find."

Jay laughed again, this time for real.

"Of course I made it for us! Though I didn't know if you would like it or not…haha … give me your phone"

"Nah they are great … thanks for thinking of me… here" jay said while handing venelope her phone.

I will not talk to you if you said thank you or sorry again! This is warning!" Venelope said while wiping her mouth and leaned her head back against the vine-covered wall as she saved her number in jay's phone and gave it back to her. "So. Tell me, what was the plant you bought?"


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[accuscripter]

"I don't know what it was," Jay murmured, her voice fading off as she sat cross-legged on the greenhouse floor, sunlight glinting off the panes above. "It was some kind of sapling, I think. So… I brought it home. After all the madness of the day, I sat on my bed, opened Chrome, and started searching about it."

Jay's words drifted into silence.

Venelope had been watching her closely, her fingers idly tracing circles into the soft soil near her. "Jay?" she asked gently, noticing the sudden stillness in her friend's tone.

Jay didn't reply. Her eyes had gone glassy, distant—caught in a thought, or a memory, perhaps. Something far away and unspeakable.

Venelope reached out and placed a hand on Jay's shoulder.

Jay flinched slightly and then looked up, startled. "Oh. Sorry, I was saying something" she whispered, blinking fast as if returning from another world.

Venelope gave her a small smile. "You sort of zoned out for a second there. You were saying something about Chrome and a sapling?"

Jay rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. "Right. Yeah, sorry. I was saying… it turns out the plant might be some species of dogwood. That's what Chrome said."

Venelope's eyes lit up. "Dogwood? Huh! Interesting."

She stood and dusted off her pants, then turned with a grin. "Come. Follow me…let me show you something."

Jay followed her toward the far end of the greenhouse, the oldest and most untouched corner where thick leafy stalks crowded together and scent-heavy blooms hung lazily in the air.

Venelope stopped in front of a long wooden shelf where several potted plants stood side by side, each labeled in neat handwriting.

Jay blinked in surprise. "Wait… are these all dogwoods?"

"Different types," Venelope said proudly. "White-flowered, red twig, even one that's barely growing because the garden keeper keeps forgetting to water it when I'm not here."

Jay let out a quiet laugh, the first real one in hours. "They're beautiful," she said sincerely.

"I know," Venelope said, her voice softening. "Now see if any of these match the mystery sapling you brought."

Jay bent forward and examined each plant closely. She squinted at the leaves, rubbed the stems gently between her fingers, and even crouched to check the roots of one that was planted in a transparent container. But after a few minutes of careful study, she leaned back, lips pursed.

"Nope," she said finally. "None of these match. The one I brought is Darker. And the stem had this strange purple hue to it. Like it had been dyed."

Venelope straightened and put her hands on her hips. "Well, then Chrome might've lied to you. Typical."

Jay grinned. "That's what I thought. Maybe it's not a dogwood. Maybe it's some rare offshoot. Or even some weird mutation."

Venelope turned, a spark in her eyes. "Then we'll figure it out together. You bring it out next time, and I'll do some digging of my own. We'll identify your mutant baby."

Jay laughed and looked down, a soft smile spreading on her face. The warm silence that followed was filled with the rustling of leaves and the faint creaking of the greenhouse's old wood.

Venelope studied her quietly. "What are you thinking now?"

Jay shook her head, eyes still lowered. "Nothing. I just… I looked at these flowers and for a second, I felt like I was somewhere else."

Venelope's smile turned more gentle. "Wanna take one of them home? You can keep it company with your weird purple sapling."

Jay looked up and gave a quiet nod. "Maybe… after we figure out what it is. I'll see what matches best."

"That's a good plan," Venelope said. "Sapling matchmaking 101."

With that, they packed up and left the greenhouse, their footsteps light against the old stone path as the late afternoon sunlight stretched longer shadows across the university grounds.

……….

Jay boarded the bus with her handsfree in her ears, music trickling softly into the background of her thoughts. She found a window seat and rested her head against the glass, watching the world rush by in shades of yellow and gray.

But her mind wasn't quiet.

It replayed the scene from that day… the day when—the old woman in the bus, the way her voice had cut across the vehicle, loud and condemning: "You stink! Whats that bad smell?"

Jay flinched inwardly.

I should've said something… she thought, her fists clenched in her lap. I could've explained. I could've told her it wasn't me. Why didn't I speak up?

She bit her lip.

Why is it so easy for Venelope? She stood up for me. She said it out loud. She wasn't scared of them. But me? I just stood there. Silent. Always silent.

She stared out of the window as the bus slowed at a signal, her breath fogging a small patch of glass.

Then suddenly—

"Oh!" Jay gasped, her body jerking slightly.

The woman sitting beside her startled. "Are you alright?" she asked, her voice concerned.

Jay turned, eyes wide. "Ah—sorry. Yes. I just… I saw someone I know. That's all."

The stranger gave her a small smile and returned to her own phone.

Jay craned her neck to look out of the window again.

She'd seen him. The boy from the pharmacy. The one who'd handed her the medicine, who'd looked at her with quiet eyes and hadn't said anything when the chaos erupted inside her in the library.

He hadn't seen her this time. He was walking along the sidewalk, holding a small white bag, earbuds in, gaze fixed ahead.

But it was him.

Her hand slowly slid to her stomach as if to confirm that the pain was no longer there, and with a strange sort of calmness, she leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

The bus rolled forward again. And somewhere behind her lids, something began to stir again as she gave a smile. She didn't like him but yeah she was happy to see him. An acquaintance she had made amidst her busy life.

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