CHAPTER ONE
"Where were you yesterday?" They asked him curiously. He didn't want to reply them. He paced uncomfortably up and down the room.
"I don't know." He murmured. Then, he looked up at his parents' faces. His mother's stern look and his father's confused self. He could read their eyes. He banged his head against his palm. That was the reason they called him over.
"At home. I was in my hostel." He answered now. "And safe?" His father added. "Yes, sir." The nearing his retirement age man sighed and looked up at his wife. She was still boiling. She had afterall, been the one who bailed the boy out of the police station when he was arrested in his hostel along with suspected cultist members.
"Are you aware of what happened yesterday at that your student hall?" There it was!
"It had nothing to do with those people, mummy." He said quietly but his mother shut him up.
"Shut that stupid mouth, you lousy thing!"
"Calm down, Fola." His father said calmly.
Daniel hung his head. He hated this pestering. It irked the sanity out of him. His only offence had been being close friends with Prado. Nothing else! It wasn't that he joined the cult or the crimes they committed. But there it was; Who would believe that? He slowly massaged his head. There had been a gang attack yesterday while a student gathering was holding. Nobody knew yet if it was a cult group fight or a direct attack or a sort of mistake and Daniel tried to believe that it wasn't Prado and his boys. Why would they launch that kind of an aimless attack? In a student gathering?
Every bone ripped with pain; tearing pain. It was as if he were tied down to whatever he was lying on. The mattress was hard and his muscles knotted. Junu didn't have the time to smell the antiseptic around him or notice white walls with almost transparent curtains and the hush sounds of footsteps and metal instruments clashing against themselves in a background of silence before he knew that he was in a hospital. He'd dreamt that he was shot. Instinctively, he grabbed his shoulders. Life had seemed to come back to his fingers since he could feel. He felt through the fabric of his hospital wear. No bandages. On either arms. He shifted his legs slightly. No sharp pain. Maybe he wasn't shot, then. He looked beside him. There should be two more beds in this room. He knew that it was the State teaching hospital. It was closest anyway. No one was on the beds but the sheets were rumpled up. There was a shirt atop one of those beds. People were here. And then, his mind struck: Where was Rhoda? He had a dream that she died.
Daniel should know the home he hails from and steer clear of his so-called friend prado, else he will keep denting his personality.