Chapter 3: A Day to Remember

Morning came again.

But this morning… this morning felt a little different.

Today wasn't just any day.

Today was the first big event of his new life in this new place.

He opened his eyes before the sun had even touched his window fully.

He sat up on his bed, looked around his small, quiet room, and for a moment… he smiled to himself.

Today, he would wear the clothes he had ironed yesterday with so much care.

He got ready slowly, carefully.

Washed his face twice. Brushed his teeth like it mattered.

Combed his hair again and again until it sat neat and flat.

He wore the shirt.

White. Clean. Pressed.

Then the pants. Black. Sharp lines from the iron still there.

He looked at himself in the mirror.

For a second, he didn't even recognize himself.

He looked… smart.

Better than usual.

Like someone ready for something new.

For the first time in a while, he felt a little proud standing in front of the mirror.

He straightened his collar and said softly to himself,

"Today… is my day."

Just like yesterday, he walked to school with Rey.

Rey was already ready and waiting.

But today Rey was wearing his school uniform.

"Seniors have to come in uniform for the program," Rey said simply.

Their walk was quiet. Calm.

But inside, his heart was moving faster than his feet.

When they reached the school gate, his eyes widened a little.

The school was decorated beautifully.

Colorful banners hanging.

Flowers placed neatly around the hall entrance.

Chairs lined up perfectly.

The walls were bright with paper art and welcome signs.

It looked alive today.

It didn't feel like the serious, cold school he saw yesterday.

It felt warm. Bright. Full of something good.

They entered the event hall together.

The hall was big, even bigger now that it was full of empty chairs waiting for people.

Rey waved at him lightly and said,

"See you later. I'm going to my friends."

And just like that, Rey disappeared into a group of familiar faces.

He stood alone again. But he didn't mind.

He had come early.

Before the noise. Before the crowd.

He sat down quietly on one of the chairs near the middle.

Slowly… the hall started to fill.

Students came in groups.

Parents arrived, talking softly among themselves.

Teachers smiled at each other.

Some students laughed. Some looked nervous, just like him.

The sound of footsteps.

The soft chatter of people meeting again.

The little rustle of papers.

Everything felt alive.

And yet… a small part of him wished his parents were here too.

To see this.

To feel this moment with him.

The program finally began.

One by one, people stood on stage and spoke.

First, the Principal.

A serious man, but kind in his words.

He talked about dreams. About hard work. About the future waiting outside these gates.

Then the Chairman.

He spoke proudly of the school's history, of its students who went far, of its teachers who gave their days and nights to shape young lives.

Then the teachers.

One by one, short speeches.

Words of welcome. Words of hope. Words that sounded like promises wrapped in kindness.

He listened quietly.

Every word felt like it was floating gently in the air, settling somewhere inside his chest.

Then came the special moment.

Welcoming the toppers.

First, the students who had passed secondary school from this very school.

Two boys. One girl.

They walked to the stage, smiles on their faces, pride in their steps.

They received small gifts wrapped in golden paper.

Everyone clapped.

Softly but sincerely.

He clapped too.

Because even though he didn't know them, he understood how much this meant.

Then… the fresher's welcome.

Names were called, one by one.

New students walked to the stage.

They were greeted with small handshakes, soft smiles, polite words.

When his name was called, something inside him paused for a second.

He stood up slowly. Walked towards the front.

But unlike the others, his welcome was different.

Because he was the topper.

Because his marks had already spoken for him before he even stepped through the gates.

The teacher who welcomed him smiled warmly.

She asked him to stand with the others.

But her words to him were softer.

Her smile was kinder.

Her eyes said more than just, "Welcome."

She said,

"We're happy you're here. You've done well. Keep doing well."

He nodded.

Said thank you in a small voice.

For a moment, he felt light inside.

Proud. Happy. Seen.

A boy from a small village.

Standing here.

Being welcomed.

Being clapped for.

It felt like a dream touching his hand.

But even in that moment of pride, a little sadness hid in the corner of his heart.

Because his father wasn't here to see this.

Because his mother wasn't here to clap for him.

Because no villager was here to say, "That's our boy."

He smiled. But inside… he felt both full and empty at the same time.

The speeches ended.

The welcomes ended.

People clapped one last time.

Breakfast was served for everyone.

Some students ate.

Some left early.

Some stayed, chatting in little circles.

He didn't feel hungry.

He ate a little.

Bread. A boiled egg. A cup of tea.

Same as every morning.

Then quietly, he returned to his hostel.

Back in his room, he picked up his phone.

Dialed home.

"Hello?"

His mother's voice was warm, soft, like it always had been.

He told her everything.

About the program.

About the decorations.

About the speeches.

About how he stood on stage.

How he was welcomed specially.

How people clapped for him.

How the teacher said kind things to him.

His father listened too.

Quiet on the other end, but he knew his father was smiling.

Proud.

"I wish you could see it," he said softly.

"We are seeing it, son. Through your words."

He smiled.

Even through the phone, his mother's happiness reached him.

Even through distance, her love felt near.

She asked,

"What will you wear tomorrow?"

He laughed a little.

"Same shirt, maybe. Or something simple."

"Wear it well. Walk proudly."

Her words felt like a soft hug through the line.

He hung up.

Looked at his clothes again.

Folded them carefully.

Tomorrow… real classes would start.

Real life would begin.

That night passed slowly.

He lay on his bed.

Looked at the ceiling.

Listened to the city outside.

Cars. Footsteps. Distant voices.

He thought about the day.

About the moment on stage.

About the claps.

About the smiles.

He thought about home.

About his father's quiet pride.

About his mother's soft words.

And for the first time since he came here…

He felt like maybe… just maybe…

He could do this.

He looked at the clock.

Closed his eyes.

Tomorrow would come.

And he was ready to meet it.

Next Morning…