Page 1 of Born in Sin

Crestwood

Terror arced through Virat’s twelve-year-old soul as the belt cracked through the air, whipping across his bare back. He bit down on his lip, stifling a scream as pain seared through him.

“If you ever tell anyone what you saw in here boy, this belt will be the least of your problems,” Mr. Mohan, his math teacher, snarled, as he snapped the belt again.

“I won’t tell anyone,” Virat whispered. “I promise. I know how to keep a secret.”

The belt snapped through the air again, raising another welt on his back. Tears stung his eyes, but Virat blinked them back. He’d learned, the hard way, that no one came when you cried.

“Put on your shirt,” Mohan snapped, having made his point. “And get out.”

Virat shrugged into his t-shirt, agony streaking through him as the torn, bruised flesh on his back pulled with the movement. He walked towards the door, not meeting his teacher’s eyes.

“Wait,” Mohan called, halting his escape. He held out a sheaf of papers. “Take the assignment sheets you came for. Get it photocopied and have it on my desk before gym period.”

Virat took the papers, wincing as he bent to pick up the sheet Mohan deliberately dropped. This was what he’d been sent to do. He hadn’t knocked before entering the office though, a mistake he’d never make again. What he’d seen was branded into his brains. He’d never forget that or what Mohan had done to him after. He left the room without another word, the papers crumpled in his clenched fist.

Virat almost made it to his dormitory when someone called out his name. He groaned, turning to see who was coming to make his life miserable now. Ms. Sonal, the swim coach, walked over with a girl in tow. Warm, brown eyes that sparkled met his and for a second, the pain in his back and in his heart eased. A second later, it roared back.

“Celina is a new student who joins us today. She needs to finish the dormitory and housing formalities. Can you show her to her warden’s office, please?”

Virat nodded, pain making words impossible. Without another word, Ms. Sonal walked away, leaving the two of them alone in the corridor. He gestured to the new girl to walk with him and made his painstaking way towards the girl’s accommodation.

“Are you okay?” The soft, worried words startled him. Soft and worried were not regular features in his life, if at all.

He nodded, tightlipped, sweat breaking out on his brow, his back feeling like it was on fire.

“You look like you’re in pain.”

Virat ignored that, focusing on breathing through the pain this new girl could apparently see with her magic vision.

“I’m Celina,” she said now, when she realised no answer was coming from him.

“Virat,” he grunted, his vision getting patchy. He stopped walking, taking a moment to rest a hand against the wall for support, and trying to breathe slowly so he didn’t lose consciousness.

A soft, cool hand came to rest on his arm, her concerned face swimming into view. “Sit down,” she said softly.

Virat slid to the ground, bending forward, his head resting on his bent knees. She sat beside him, a quiet, strange presence.

“Would you like to hold my hand?” she asked, even as her fingers caught his, threading through them.

Hold her hand? Why? Even as he thought the questions, his hand clenched around hers, automatically seeking a comfort he’d never known before.

“My mother always says,” she continued, chattily, “That everything is better when you hold on to someone, when you lean on the other person for support.”

A group of seventh graders walked past, one of the boys giving a low whistle at the sight of the new girl crouched beside him. She didn’t seem to notice.

“Your shirt is red,” she said quietly. “You’re bleeding.”

Before he could think up a convincing lie, another voice broke through.

“Celina Fernandez! What are you doing on the floor?” Warden Meeta swept up the hallway towards them, grabbing Celina by an arm and dragging her to her feet. She ignored Virat. “Come on. Let’s get you settled into your dorm.”

Celina struggled against her grasp. “I was –“

“Maria Fernandez’s daughter is not going to spend her first day at our school on the ground. Come on, sweetheart, let’s go.”

“He’s hurt,” Celina said, pointing to Virat who didn’t look up.