First

Rip! Swoosh! Thousands of pillow feathers flew to the ceiling of a VVIP suite in Nottingham Medical.

It's beautiful bed and polished floors were littered with scattered and torn pieces of fabric and feathers.

In a matter of seconds … Set! – The door slid open.

'Sire!'

A group of nurses barged in, getting hold of the patient's body and trying to calm him down.

He screamed and struggled, but the nurses succeeded in calming him down by injecting him to sleep.

On the doorstep, witnessing what had happened stood a girl in her school uniform.

Her face was drenched in tears.

Trembling, she cupped her mouth,

'daddy... no….'

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'Never tell anyone about anything…'

Zara whispered to her reflection on the mirror in front of her.

Her cheeks and eyes were red and damp. She turned the tap on. It creaked and water flowed. The sound of it covered the sobs and sniffs echoing around the bathroom.

To calm herself, Zara cupped her hands and filled it with water, then splashed it on her face. The water made her collars wet. She did it again absent-mindedly. After a couple of times, she looked at the mirror again.

'Ugh, what a mess,' She sighed, 'I should work better on my expressions next time… so they won't notice.'

Suddenly, footsteps sounded echoingly from the stairs. Someone was going down to the bathrooms.

Zara hurriedly ripped several sheets of paper towels and wiped her face with it, and then she ran to the door and grabbed the doorknob with wet fingers. She turned it and wrenched the door open.

A boy was hovering on the door, his right hand reaching out for the doorknob.

His eyes met Zara's for a moment, they were wide with surprise.

Then they changed to a slight recognition, like someone who just had a sudden flah in their mind.

Zara covered her face with her arms and bolted past him. She ran up the stairs to her classroom. Her footsteps resounding reverberatingly.

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Zane stood in front of the boys' toilet, thinking hard about what he just saw.

What was a girl doing in the boys' toilet? No, more importantly, why does she seem familiar?

Like someone from his childhood a long time ago that he had missed so much and that he really wanted to meet again.

He turned up the stairs to call her back, but she was gone.

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The door to the classroom swung open. In walked Zane. He nodded to the teacher, Mr. Atkinson - who was squatting rudely on his chair in front and was wearing earphones when Zane was peeking in from the windows outside before to check out the situation – and now the teacher looked startled from his sudden entrance and sprang up from his seat.

Mr. Atkinson was feeling satisfied after giving a long lesson about chemistry. And after telling the class representative to give out worksheets to the class - with a hidden intention so as the students would focus on themselves and not disturb his rest - he lolled back on his chair and relaxed, after putting up some music on his phone and plugging in his headphones.

He shot up startled when Zane had swung open the door with his high enthusiasm and eagerness. Because he thought it was a teacher who had decided to check on him, he quickly turned down the volume on his music before unplugging his earphones and stuffing them in his drawer.

That was when he glanced up and clearly saw Zane.

Then he found himself breathing a sigh of relief.

'A-Ah, Zane, still doing the afternoon ritual? As she said, the head teacher won't mind so long as it doesn't disturb school schedules. But lately, you've been coming in late for my afternoon classes. And why is that? You know that if you keep this up you won't be allowed to do it anymore, you understand?'

Mr. Atkinson said to Zane, as he regained his composure, in front of the whole class.

Some of them turned their heads from their assignments and looked at Zane. They shifted their gaze from him to Mr. Atkinson, and back to him.

'I understand sir, and I'm really sorry. Lately, I've been trying to improve it. But tomorrow, I'll try my best not to be late again. Thank you sir, for the advice. Once again, I'm really sorry,'

Zane said politely.

Mr. Atkinson scoffed,

'Alright, its fine if you understand. But you'd better not be late tomorrow. Else I'll go to the head, Ms. Charlton, and report to her about your 'tardiness in attending classes'.'

'Yes sir, I understand,'

Zane said.

He was nerved by the on-looking classmates and the situation and longed for it to be over.

Mr. Atkinson heaved a sigh of irritation and flopped back down on his seat. He plugged in his earphones and turned up the volume. Music blared in high volume in his ears. He did not like students disturbing his well earned rest, particularly after he had had a tight morning schedule; teaching classes, inspecting exams, correcting the filled up worksheets and reporting it to the head, and attending a meeting with the teachers.

He had searched the school files and asked about Zane to the head and the other teachers in the meeting, and they had told him that Zane was a Muslim. So every midday, he would have to do a prayer ritual in a secluded place, and is not to be disturbed.

Zane had requested the teachers to not let any of the students disturb his prayer, but he had said that there was no need for the teachers to make any announcements regarding his important agenda.

And the teachers had agreed to respect his wishes.

A hand suddenly shot up from the sea of bent heads, 'I'm sorry Sir. Zane's still standing. He hasn't sat down yet. I'm sure he's waiting for your permission, sir, '

Dave said from his seat at the left corner of the second last row separated from the wall by Zane's seat, he was Zane's desk mate.

He was also one of Zane's best friends, and he knew that Zane was trying to be a good student by not being rude to the teachers. He admired Zane's rare kindness and wanted to follow his actions. But unfortunately, Zane's overly kindness had also made himself seen as a potential target for ridicule.

He looked towards the door where Zane was standing and grinned with his thumbs up.

Zane looked at Dave and smiled his broad smile, which was always comforting and heart-warming to the people who saw it, and lifted his hands a fraction for a double thumbs up. He was trying to hide the stiffness in his legs as he shifted them.

While their little show of drama was going on, they did not realize that Mr. Atkinson had not been paying attention. He was overwhelmed in his thoughts and the bleary music in his ears. He even started to hum in accordance with the music. The bustling sound of the students and what Dave said seemed like background noise for him. He was also unaware of Zane fidgeting and massaging his cramped feet at the classroom door.

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'Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir,' Zane said and he tilted his head forwards perfunctorily.

He faced his seat next to Dave and strode toward it, pushed back the chair carefully, and sat on it. He pulled the chair to fit his desk, and then he straightened up and settled back on his seat.

'Man, what took you so long,' Dave said, nudging him quite hard on the ribs.

Zane flinched, hiding the hurt in his heart with his patience. He lifted his hands at Dave as a sign of defeat with an unwearied grin,

'You missed the whole lesson from the start. What're you going to do? You already understood today's chemistry material? Want me to teach you? Or you're just going to copy my notes? I wrote more than I wanted to, for you of course, in case you showed up late to class like yesterday. But I don't want to do it anymore, coz it's such a pain to follow Mr. Atkinson. But I bet you can understand just from my notes, even though my writing's squibbly. You're a smarty pants, aren't you?'

Dave said, with a sinking feeling of guilt as soon as he said it. He had not intended to mock his best friend. But Zane's meekness at reacting to ridicule had sparked up an unintended flare in his chest. That made him unable to reign his ego and thus made him a bully.

'You missed all the explanations, now we're getting worksheets to finish, here's yours,' he gave him three pages full of chemical calculations.