Since, A Novel

xii. LIGHT IS THE ONLY THING CAPABLE OF FORGIVING

xii.
LIGHT IS THE ONLY THING
CAPABLE OF FORGIVING

January 2018. The classroom was wide enough to fit about forty students in it, and the chairs were made of hard plastic which often made screeching sounds—the ones that cringe your ears, almost teeth-shuddering—on the marble floor as Ara watched two of her mates play goofs. Only one out of four windows was opened, making the space feel airy—in some corners—and light as all of them bared a little of the outside: all buildings, all cars, all streets, and not a single tree. There were little handwritings on the cream-painted wall and some of them were stray shapes of doodles and marks and notes, with one of them saying 'Mrs. Romina is a fat old bitch.' unnoticeable due to the artificial plant in a vase that overlooked it, and above the plant was an unfinished bulletin board with fragmentary notes of old schedules, itineraries quotes, and the school policy 'Kindness is a virtue', but was then used as a dumping ground of anonymous messages and confessions by the students covering the marginalia, almost looking as though it was ripped off.

     She'd see the date, which was above the paper of the alma mater, saying '2016'. The area had the usual smell of articles and other school materials, yet was a little fusty and stale and unventilated due to the broken air-conditioning that made cranky sounds along with the students' noise; some had gathered themselves up in the corner at the back of the class, and it seemed like there was some sort of club or society that was going around, with the way they'd discussed in subdued tones amongst themselves, 'I just can't believe this school. She was one of the top students and it's baffling why'd someone not back her up.' 'Then why didn't you back her up! 'I'd be dead! I didn't know the whole story, but I just know she wouldn't have done it.' 'I second to that.' 'If it's not Math that's ending me, this school will!'

          "You can sit anywhere," Nianne gestured to a couple of empty seats. "Or you can have the one next to me,"

     The seats beside the window were all occupied and there were three; two in the back and one near the classroom's door, beside Nianne. Ara took the seat in front of her and heard the other girl saying 'okay' hinted with defeat under her breath.

          "So, I'm guessing you've seen the, well, the little
catastrophe going on outside, huh? For your first
day, sorry you had to see that. We were going to
fix it, but there were just too many . . . uh, it
happened so fast." Nianne said, the papers from her bookbinder making sound as she looked through.

     There were a couple of students who wore green shirts tucked under their jeans, with red scarves wrapped around their necks, arraying things and putting out the clutters in front of the main building before Ara and Nianne had entered inside. It was scorching but windier at the same time, having blown the scraps of papers, plastic cups, and more rubbish, to which Nianne commented, 'You'll have to get used; people here are clowns.' But it was strange; the scraps weren't just scraps; Ara saw that they seemed like someone's writing torn into bits and pieces, which Ara didn't pay much attention to. But what she did do was get the random pen she'd seen on the ground outside school; she didn't even realize that she didn't bring one with her before she hopped on that bus. Although it was not in Ara's plans to jot down notes and do silly calligraphies, she still could use something, as it was unlikely of her to borrow things from someone.

          "I don't want to hear gossip."
          "Huh, you're that type," Nianne replied, sounding amused. "What's your name? Mine's Nianne,"

     She took a couple of strands of hair from the girl in front, making the gesture of handshaking. Ara rocked herself forward, Nianne only chuckled.