...
It was raining. Mon held his mother's hand as they stepped out of the school gate. He was only four, still small enough that his backpack looked oversized on his back. Children were saying their goodbyes, umbrellas opening like flowers, voices echoing in the wet afternoon air.
His mother held an umbrella above them, but Mon kept moving out from under it, lifting his face toward the sky. The rain fell light, playful.
"Don't get wet, Mon! You'll catch a cold," she called out.
But he didn't listen and skipped ahead.
The houses around the school were packed close together, two-Storey buildings with iron gates, rusting railings, and balconies dripping with potted plants. Water spilled from rooftops into the drains below. Scooters rolled past with the hum of wet engines.
As they walked farther, the houses began to thin out. The road stretched into a wide-open area, bordered by long grasslands swaying with the wind. Electric poles stood at intervals like watchmen of the silent path. The noise of the town softened, replaced by the rhythm of falling rain.
A river came into view. A broad, muddy current ran through the fields, swollen and restless after the downpour. A solid bridge made of thick cement crossed over it, cracked in places, but strong. Its surface was stained by time, worn from countless footsteps.
Mon ran ahead.
"Mon, slow down!" his mother called.
But the sound of the river had already drawn him in. It rushed below, loud and wild. He leaned against the railing, small fingers gripping the wet concrete, eyes wide with wonder.
But suddenly his foot slipped.
A gasp escaped him as he tipped forward, but his mother grabbed him just in time. She pulled him back with all her strength. He landed hard on the ground. He blinked, confused. And then he saw her fall.
She lost her balance. Her foot slid. And she was gone. The splash rang through the air, louder than the river. She vanished into the current.
Mon screamed. The world around him blurred. Rain poured harder. People came running. Strangers shouted. But it was too late. He just stood there, shaking, soaked to the bone. Watching the place where she disappeared.
And then something crazy happened.
Mon woke up with a gasp.
It was a dream.
His shirt was damp with sweat, chest rising and falling in quick, panicked breaths. He sat up slowly, still catching his breath, the echo of the splash ringing in his ears. Beside his bed, on a small table, stood a picture frame, a photo of his mother, smiling softly. His eyes lingered on it.
A sudden knock at the door broke the silence.
"Mon? Are you awake?" It was his sister's voice.
He rubbed his face with both hands, trying to shake the dream loose.
"Yeah," he said, voice dry. "I'm up."
The door opened slowly, and his sister peeked inside, already dressed in her school uniform. "Come on, get ready. You'll be late."
Mon nodded quietly. As she left the room, he looked once more at the photo. The smile in the frame seemed so distant now, like a fading echo. He got up, dragged his feet toward the bathroom. He washed his face and took a quick shower. The cold water helped clear his head, though a heavy feeling still clung to him. After drying off and changing into his uniform, he stepped out into the dining room. His sister had already laid the table. Their father was sitting at the table, already dressed for work, checking the time on his watch with mild impatience.
"Eat quickly," he said without looking up. "When do your classes end today?"
"Three-thirty," his sister replied.
"Hmm. I might be late coming home, there's a meeting," he added. His words were practical, his tone neutral, as always.
They ate in quiet. Mon barely tasted the food. His thoughts were still tangled in the dream. After the meal, their father rushed out, briefcase in hand, tying his shoelaces on the way to the door. The siblings exchanged a glance, then got up and began packing their bags.
Moments later, Mon and his sister stepped outside, locking the door behind them. The morning sun had finally broken through the clouds. The siblings held to the side of the road as they walked to school. A light breeze ruffled the trees lining the pavement.
Mon's sister met two of her friends along the way, and they quickly greeted each other, falling into the familiar rhythm of conversation. They laughed about something from yesterday's class and chatted about homework and gossip. Their voices faded into the background as Mon drifted into his thoughts, quiet and withdrawn.
As they crossed the bridge near their school, Mon's gaze fell to the river flowing beneath. He slowed his steps, staring at the water. Something deep tugged at him a vague feeling, like the memory of a dream he couldn't fully grasp. His face looked distant, caught in thought.
At school, Mon walked straight to his classroom and called out,
"Ruun!" his friend, who sat behind him.
Ruun spun around with a grin.
"Bro! Did you do the math homework? I totally forgot. Again. I swear my brain just deletes numbers after 5 PM."
Mon gave him a pitying look, as if offering condolences for a lost cause.
"Ruun... there wasn't any math homework."
Ruun froze mid-stretch.
"Wait... what? For real?"
Mon nodded solemnly.
"For real. Math Sir said he was too tired to torture us yesterday."
Ruun blinked, then slumped in his chair with exaggerated relief.
"Ah, my hero. You're The chosen one. I was this close to faking chickenpox."
Mon chuckled. "You faked that last month."
"Yeah, and it worked! Kinda. I still had to write an essay on 'Why lying is bad.'"
The bell rang, and the classroom burst into motion. Chairs scraped, backpacks zipped, and someone yelled about losing their pen for the fourth time that week.
Ruun leaned closer, whispering, "Anyway, if we do get homework today... you're totally letting me copy again, right?"
Mon sighed. "We'll see."
"That's a yes in Mon language!" Ruun grinned, victorious.
And just like that, the heaviness from Mon's morning lifted a little, swept away by his friend's ridiculous charm and endless optimism.
The teacher entered the classroom. Everyone straightened up. Books opened, and the period began with the slow rhythm of chalk tapping on the board.
Soon, the break period rolled in like a breath of fresh air. Mon sat at his desk with Ruun and two other friends. The classroom buzzed again. Snacks came out of bags, and laughter echoed around the room.
That's when she walked in.
Iliyana.
The whole vibe changed. Even the seniors knew her name she wasn't just the most popular girl in class. Every guy kind of liked her in secret. She had this calm, graceful vibe and always looked like she was thinking something deep.
Ruun instantly sat straighter, puffed up like a bird trying to impress. He fixed his collar and leaned back in his chair with an awkward smile. "Ah, good afternoon, Iliyana," he said, way too formal.
She didn't even look at him.
"Mon," she said, walking right past Ruun. Her voice was calm, but there was something serious in her tone. She looked like she had something on her mind.
Mon blinked. "Yeah?"
"Got a minute? I need help with some organic reactions, I'm all mixed up with SN1 and SN2. Can you explain it?"
"Sure," Mon said, trying not to sound surprised.
Ruun looked like someone had just popped his balloon. His arms dropped, and he stared into space.
"All that gentleman act... for nothing," he muttered.
"I should've been a cactus. At least cactuses don't get ignored."
Mon was about to explain when Aryan showed up tall, confident, and casual like always.
"Iliyana," he called, "still need help with that math problem?"
Without missing a beat, she nodded.
"Oh, right! Mon, we'll continue later, okay?"
And she walked off with Aryan. Ruun looked at Aryan, then back at Mon.
"I swear that guy was made in a lab just to steal scenes," he whispered."Aryan walks like he's the hero of a movie. I bet he cries when his shampoo finishes."
Everyone laughed. Mon let out a sigh. The moment was over.
Ruun gave him a nudge. "Let's go play basketball. I saw a group heading out."
They went downstairs to the basketball court.
A few students were already playing. Some girls were watching from the railings, chatting and laughing.
Ruun stepped onto the court and tried to show off spinning the ball, striking poses.
"Showtime," he whispered.
But before he could dribble, a taller student casually snatched the ball from him.
The girls laughed.
Ruun stood frozen, still posing. "I... let him do that. Totally on purpose."
Mon sighed, stepped in, and joined the game. He moved fast, took the ball, scored once. Then again. He was in the zone.
On his third attempt, two players came at him. One accidentally tripped him. Mon fell hard, grabbing his leg.
"Mon!" Ruun rushed over, looking angry. "Seriously? You guys blind or what?"
Others came in and stopped things before it turned ugly.
Ruun helped Mon up.
"Come on. We're heading to the medical room."
They walked slowly down the hallway. Mon's leg hurt, but Ruun's dramatic concern made him smile a bit.
When they got to the infirmary, the nurse wasn't there. But someone else was.
Iliyana.
She turned, saw them. Her eyes widened. "Mon! What happened?"
"He tried to fly and forgot he's human," Ruun said, helping Mon to the bench.
Iliyana didn't waste time. She was the health monitor, after all. She opened the first-aid kit and began cleaning Mon's leg.
"You were pretty good out there," she said, smiling softly.
Mon blushed a bit. "Thanks."
Ruun leaned on the wall, arms crossed, pretending to sulk. "There goes my heart. Just fell off a cliff and landed in the Himalaya."
Iliyana chuckled but didn't comment. She wasn't mean, just a little reserved. Maybe she didn't dislike Ruun, she probably just found him a bit much sometimes. She wrapped the bandage gently around Mon's leg, her fingers slowing down near the end. Mon looked at her.
For a second, their eyes met quiet, unsure, but something new was there. Outside, the basketball sounds continued. Inside, everything felt still. A moment that felt like something more.
Watching them, Ruun interrupted, waving his hand dramatically. "Yeah, guys, I'm here too, you know!"
Right then, the bell rang. Break period was over.
Both Mon and Iliyana looked away, slightly blushing.
"Let's go, guys. Physics period next," Ruun said, pointing at the clock. "If we're late, Tripathi's going to roast us again. He's probably already in the class, waiting to flex his sarcasm."
They limped back to class, slipping in just in time. Tripathi sir was already there, tapping the board like it owed him money. "Well, well, the mathematicians arrive," he said without looking. "I hope you didn't stop for selfies."
Everyone giggled.
Class continued. The rhythm of learning returned. Mon sat down quietly, listening to Tripathi explaining something about circuits. The sunlight was fading slowly across the window.
Then the final bell rang. The class erupted like a cinema hall when the credits roll. Chairs moved. Bags zipped. Voices overlapped. The teacher closed the book, gave a final nod, and walked out.
Mon paused, just sitting there. For a moment, his mind replayed a memory the image of his mother, standing with an umbrella, smiling as he ran toward her outside the school gate.
He blinked.
Ruun tossed his bag on his shoulder, stretched, and grinned.
"Okay, this nonsense is over."
Mon gave a small smile and nodded. They packed their bags and started walking out with the others.
They reached the school gate where Aria, Mon's sister, was waiting for him with her friends. As soon as Mon approached, the group began walking. Ruun's house was on the opposite side, so he waved goodbye with a goofy salute. "Don't forget to survive homework," he called.
Aria's two friends parted ways at a turn, leaving Aria and Mon walking together toward home. The road was warm with the golden touch of the setting sun.
Aria chatted the whole way, sharing stories from her school day. "You know what happened today? One of my classmates fell asleep while sitting, still holding his book. Jason sir caught him mid-snore. He scolded him using such fancy English that the poor guy looked like he entered sleep paralysis."
Mon burst out laughing just as they reached the bridge.
The same old bridge.
The wind was calm, the river below shimmering under the soft light. Their laughter echoed for a moment.
Mon and Aria reached home just as the evening sun began casting long shadows across the quiet lane. Aria pulled out the keys and unlocked the front door. The click echoed faintly in the still air.
They stepped inside, the coolness of home wrapping around them.
"I'll take a bath first," Aria said, kicking off her shoes and heading straight to the bathroom with a towel slung over her shoulder.
Mon nodded silently. As Aria disappeared into the hallway, he slowly climbed the stairs to his room. The stairs creaked gently beneath his feet. When he pushed the door open, the familiar sight greeted him a small, neat room lit by the soft orange glow of the evening.
On the small table beside his bed sat a framed photograph of his mother, her smile frozen in a moment that felt like another lifetime. Beside the frame were a few scattered pens and a half-open book.
He stood still; his eyes fixed on the photo. He walked over, brushed his fingers lightly against the frame, and then sat on the edge of the bed. The house was quiet, only the faint sound of water running from the bathroom could be heard steady and distant.
He lay back on the bed slowly, arms stretched out, his mind drifting.
He thought of Aria how she had taken over the responsibilities of someone they both lost too early.
She had learned to cook, keep the house warm, remind him to study everything a mother might have done. And yet, she had never known their mother, not even her voice. Still, she carried that missing presence with a strength he quietly admired. Sometimes, he wondered if she ever let herself cry. Maybe not in front of him.
He sighed deeply. It wasn't sorrow. It was just a weight that sat quietly in the chest.
Aria's voice echoed from downstairs.
"Mon! Come freshen up!"
He blinked, sat up, and turned toward the door.
8:00 p.m.
The world outside had gone dark, the hills in silhouette against the starlit sky. Inside the house, yellow lights glowed softly. The warmth of home lingered in the quiet.
Mon was at his study table, bent over a math problem. The ticking clock and faint hum of the TV downstairs blended into a cozy background noise.
He scribbled in his notebook when his phone buzzed.
Linang: "Bruh! did you finish the chemistry practical theory?"
Mon's eyes widened. "Oh no... the chemistry practical book!" he muttered.
He quickly typed:
Mon: "Wait... we were supposed to write it? I thought it was just a demo tomorrow?"
Linang: "Demo? Bro, Miss Priya is going to demo slap us if we go empty-handed."
Mon: "I swear I forgot to buy the book."
Linang: "You forgot?? You had one job!! What were you doing the whole weekend?? Farming in the mountains?"
Mon chuckled despite the panic. He grabbed his wallet, ready to fix the mistake.
"Aria! I'm heading to the market need to grab a book. You need anything?"
She was curled on the sofa, deeply into her serial. "Hmm? No, I'm fine. Just be quick."
Mon grinned, slipped on his slippers, and left.
The market was close, just a short walk-through familiar lane. Their town was a small, hilly settlement modern enough for convenience, yet still close to nature.
The road glistened under the streetlights, and the air smelled of pine and distant smoke.
As he walked, Mon texted Linang back.
Mon: "On the way to buy it now. And no, I don't have a girlfriend. Stop teasing."
Linang: "Haha! Sure sure. Walking alone like a anime MC? Don't get hit by a truck."
Mon rolled his eyes and smiled. By the time he passed the school gates, the road sloped down to the small-town center. The market lights twinkled like stars on the ground. He reached the bookstore, bought the practical book, and picked up some snacks from the grocery.
On his way back, he walked toward a crossing. The road ahead was busy a few cars passed, headlights streaking across the asphalt. A traffic officer stood nearby, whistling and guiding the evening traffic.
A few people stood beside him, waiting to cross. Among them were a woman and her two little boys. The kids were playing, chasing each other in circles, giggling under the streetlight.
Suddenly,
one of the boys broke free and ran toward the road, straight into oncoming traffic.
A loud honk tore through the air a truck was speeding in, brakes screeching, too close.
Everyone froze.
Mon didn't think. He sprinted forward, leapt, and pushed the child out of the way just in time.
But as he turned to escape, the headlights consumed his vision.
A brilliant white light flashed.
Mon instinctively raised his arms to shield his face. His body lit up for a moment and blinded by a brightness.
Then everything went black.
And just like that...
Mon woke up, gasping, drenched in sweat. His eyes darted around he was in his room, on his bed. The faint hum of the ceiling fan above him. He sat up slowly, breathing hard.
What was that?
Was it a dream... or something else?