My life was always different, even when I didn’t know about it. But it supposedly changed after I had the worst headache of my life. And sometimes I wish the secrets were kept secret; for when revealed, they made everything a thousand times worse.
I exhaled, holding my head. I had the urge to bang my head against the wall, but I knew it would only make the pain worse. I was having crazy dreams, that lead to headache due to my best hobby; overthinking, and I had spent my whole afternoon searching for ways to deal with the headache. One thing about headaches: they are the worst. Had it been a stomachache or some type of body ache, I could just distract myself by watching TV or reading or studying or something. But with headache, it only made things worse; and it invited my worst demon: boredom to pounce at me. The pain was easier to deal with than boredom. Because when I am bored, I think, which causes more headache. I closed my eyes, trying to sleep but an image from my nightmare appeared. A little girl running on the roof of the apartments I lived in, and someone pushing her off, and she falling to death. I had this kind of dream before, when I was five. A baby thrown from the roof of a castle. I had an excellent memory when it came to dreams. Somehow, I remembered every detail; which surprised everyone but me.
I got up. I hated doing nothing. It was a waste of time, which I hated. I sat on my chair near my study table. My diary lay open in front of me. I grabbed a black marker from my pencil stand and started doodling on my arm. I drew two symbols: a crescent shaped moon behind the trapezium of my thumb, and a circle with a half circle and a plus symbol beneath it.
I had no idea where it came from, but I just felt the need to draw it. Over the years, I had learnt many things. Let me reframe it. Over the years, I have learnt everything possible. From drawing to singing to dancing to everything. Even some weird things like fencing and Latin and different symbols from different mythologies and looming.
The symbol felt familiar. I got up and took out another diary from my shelf: the one in which I note all the symbols I learn and their meanings. I flipped pages to the Alchemy section. It was filled with the symbols used by the Alchemists in the ancient times. I turned some pages until I saw the symbol. Beneath the symbol I had written: Pluto. For a careless moment, I thought it was nothing until, it hit me. It wasn’t just the symbol of Pluto. It was also the symbol of death. Chills ran down my spine. I tried to convince myself it was a mere coincidence, but I couldn’t. Because I knew, it wasn’t. The reasons I studied different symbols was because I doodled them around; symbols whose meaning I knew not. And then I searched their meaning on the internet. Then, I started researching different symbols. I often had dreams about different symbols and languages. So, I started learning different languages too. I knew, three Indian, three Europe and an international language. I know how to write in Morse code and runes. And, I am thirteen. I am captain of two sports teams in my school and the class topper since kindergarten. I am what other mothers call, “Good example!”
I have friends, a lot of them. Best friends too. But I am a girl who loves shadows. That’s where I stay. In the shadows. Apart from my achievements, people don’t pay me much attention. Let me correct that sentence; Apart from my achievements, people didn’t pay me much attention. But that was until I drew that symbol on my arm. Which changed everything, I stood for. I stood for someone who no one tangled with, because they knew better. I stood for the good quiet girl, no one paid much attention, I stood for revenge, the sweet taste of vengeance. For excellence. Now, I stand for forgiveness, for using silence as a voice not a way to hide in the shadows, for being noticed, for perfection, for precision, and above all, for being a hunter.
