Of Fallacies And Fate

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#11 in Spiritual. Alhamdulillah :')

"I tried so hard not to turn you into poetry" -Bianca Sparacino

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"You"

Samairah looked up from her book to see that the harsh angry voice was actually directed towards her. She stifled not only a gasp but also a grin.

All this while. All this while she thought that her professor was scolding a girl who sat behind her. But now that she looked up and locked eyes with her teacher, she knew it was her. And for the past ten minutes, Miss. Sheetal was continuously scolding someone and Samairah thought, 'poor girl. Being thrashed by Medusa'.

Yes, they had named Miss. Sheetal Medusa, because of her outright evil behaviour with students. They had copied it from a sitcom and it wasn't an original idea to call her that. Initially, they did give her the benefit of doubt, thinking that she would get better as time passed by but it was exactly the opposite.

The more classes she took, more students she ridiculed. By now, almost everyone had been on the other end of her rebuke.

She was scolding me from that time?

Samairah thought again and this time, she couldn't control her laugh. Miss Sheetal's eyes widened in anger as a giggle escaped Samairah's mouth.

I am so gone now.

Miss Sheetal took a few steps forward in her direction. Her face contorted in anger, vein pulsated in her temple showing her annoyed state.

"Get up", she barked.

Samairah slowly got up, laughter draining from her face. She took a quick glance on her side to see her two friends. Saba was staring right ahead towards the wall with a neutral expression while Saba had a constipated face, her emotions stuck between fear of her teacher as she had already suffered great admonishment recently and laughter at her friend's silliness.

"What do you think of yourself", she spat in anger.

Samairah started to feel embarrassed. She had always been a sincere and good student. She had never been pointed out in class or made to stand this way to suffer scoldings. She was very sensitive when it came to that. Although, she did know that Miss. Sheetal was absolutely mental, she couldn't help but feel her throat get dry while her eyes welled up with tears.

I can't cry. I can't. I can't. This is not school. This is not undergrad. I'm a postgrad student. I can't cry.

Miss Sheetal gave a satisfied expression when Samairah didn't answer. But she didn't stop with her scolding either. She continued for other ten minutes, ridiculing her in every way possible. Each word hitting Samairah's heart and shattering it, her self esteem crumbled to pieces and every inch of her wanted to escape and never face anyone again.

That was Samairah's weakness. She just couldn't handle public contempt. She just couldn't face those people she had been ridiculed in front of, no matter how much time passed by. And now, she was being ridiculed in front of her classmates, with whom she would have to spend the next two years with.

Ya Allah!

All this while, as Miss Sheetal yelled out at her, she hung her head down in shame. Traitorous tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to fall the moment she'd blink. If there was one thing she hated more than being ridiculed publicly, it was to cry in front of them. She couldn't, just couldn't be vulnerable in front of anyone at all. She blinked rapidly, a trick that would scatter the tears and prevent them from falling.