Am sure everyone for once in their lifetime has had this crazy dream of walking in naked to their school, college, office, place of work, supermarket or out-of-the-house.

For me on that surreal day, the nightmare actually came true.

Like in those dreams, you're all alone.

No one who knows you is around or in your sight to pull you out of the brain-freeze that grabs you once the shame binds you to the spot.

Once I stepped past the double-doors which implied I was in my school, the nightmare began. Every possible available surface was covered with pictures of a teenage girl's nude skin.

In some images she's bathing, in some she's undressing, some had backgrounds of dressing rooms, some looked like a very familiar bathroom, some were close-ups of her body parts even when she's dressed.

It was like walking into a gallery the contents of which make you sick. My steps into the hallway turned smaller as I took in every image as they were jumping before my eyes with familiarity of where they could've been from.

Boys were having the time of their life. Huddling around posters, whistling among themselves, calling whoever had taken these was lucky and possessive cause none of the images showed the girl's face.

Her face was either silhouetted by her hair or the angle showed everything away from her features that would let anyone know who she is.

But if anyone were aware of the moles I had would know in a glance, it was I who was splattered across these walls.

My hair was also a giveaway but since it was such a common shade I had plausible deniability.

Teachers and the Principal had not yet arrived. Mr. Jackson, who stayed behind the school compound was having a tough time trying to chase the kids away so he could start removing them.

Girls were huddled in corners among themselves peeking glances at the pics and passing comparative statements, "She has fat there!", "That angle is flattering!", "Her hair's too common", "Whatever made him obsess!!" cause if it's not your plight, it's a free-for-all.

I used to dislike the people here for how everyone tolerated the bullies but now I hated them. It was like an early ugly alerting glimpse of how our society is going to treat everyone.

Bile rose to my mouth and I had to find a toilet soon or I'd add to the ongoing spectacle confirming anyone and everyone's doubts who was splayed across the walls.

Thank heavens the stalls were empty!! One could time it as a race as to how soon I finished my business scared that someone might walk in and do the math. I did not want anymore humiliation today or ever. It was like my appetite for humiliation was filled in one single helping enough for my lifetime.

By the time I stepped out, teachers had arrived and were huddling students into classes away from the posters so that Mr. Jackson could remove them faster.

My aloofness was what saved anyone from walking up to me and making polite enquiries if I knew who the girl is.

I spend the classes hovering over my books and later with teacher's permission in the library at the pretext of catching up on research for my essays so that no one would get to see my pale as a ghost face.

I was so lost that I did not notice Ryan walking to this section of the library and sitting next to me. It was when he placed his hand on my shoulder that I looked up with a start at his curious face.

"It's you!!" was all it took for the tears I was holding in to break-free.

I detested everything in that moment.

My luck.

My weakness.

This newborn stalker.

The stalker was maybe jealous of Ryan's roses.

Ryan being here.

My friends having the flu.

Realising am all alone.

Wanting to run home and never come back.

It was more than I could ever handle and sensing this Ryan pulled me in a hug that felt protective. I do not recall for how long I sat there crying and eventually sobbing in that corner away from anyone's ears.

Ryan didn't for once try to shush me or say it's going to be alright. It was like he let me be me.

After I was all spent up, I looked up with tear-stricken eyes. He brought out water from his bag and offered wordlessly which I accepted gratefully.

"We need to find out who's behind this." Ryan spoke with quiet resolve.

"Before I could lay my hand on any to try and investigate Mr. Jackson had removed them all and confiscated it from the boys who'd taken some."

"The school is not going to look into it unless the victim files an official complaint."

The statements relieved and appalled me at the same time. I looked up at Ryan with shocked eyes.

"I don't want you to file the complaint. I know for some reason you interact well with Mr. Jackson and he'd give some to you if you spoke to him."

"For reasons unknown, he's always hated me and if I could get it from him I would instead of asking you to try." Ryan responded with a resigned shrug.

"He'll most likely destroy them tonight. I'd suggest not risking talking to him now or after school in case someone overhears you two. Talking to him before it gets dark should be ideal."

Ryan was right, shedding tears over this was not going to make the culprit walk upto me. I have to get to the bottom of this.

I decided to go to Mr.Jackson in the evening to get something that would bring the culprit to light.

I faked feeling the flu coming to Mom and Dad so that they wouldn't enquire about my blood-shot eyes. It was like if anyone asked me what was wrong I'd end up puking every fact out and I didn't want them involved yet.

It was my carelessness which got me into it and I was going to pull myself out of it.

After a pretend nap of a couple of hours, I snuck out of the house at the pretense of checking on Hannah and Sarah. They had texted enquiring what the hell happened at school today, someone might've informed them, which I ignored to reply. We would talk once I knew everything.

Walking as inconspicuously as possible, I reached behind the school compound to Mr. Jackson's quarters.

The sight in front of my eyes stunned me for a moment.

An old drum contained a fire which was lapping up the posters which Pete was angrily feeding to them.

He was stone-faced and about to put in the last one when I pushed him away from the fire with a loud "No".

Pete looked at my face, surprised as if he'd been woken from a haze.

"What are you doing here?" was the first thing he asked me.

Trying to snatch the last poster from his hand, I almost shouted,"I won't let you burn it."

With incredulous surprise, Pete said,"What are you talking about? Why would you want this cruel reminder of what happened today?!" pulling the poster away from my reach and squishing it with all his anger.

"It'll help us find who did this, Pete!! Don't you get it?! We can investigate."

"You want to show these to more people to try and find who did this?!

And what good is that going to do, Rose?!

Once you know who did this, what're we going to do to this monster?!"

"I don't have answers to that yet. I want to know who did I wrong enough to deserve this!!" I almost screamed trying to pull the balled-up poster from Pete's hand.

"And you think that's going to make a difference?! You would have to prove to people that it was you on these posters first!! After that if we do find who did this what justice do you think awaits him?!" still keeping the poster out of my reach.

"Why are you fighting me on this?! Don't you want me to find out who's behind this?! Ryan said we can find who did this!!"

An expression of surprise, hate and guilt swam across Pete's face.

He just looked slack-jawed at me while I rambled away.

"Do you know who did this?!"

"I know you're being bullied but am not going to silently let this happen to me."

At this point, all sense had abandoned me. I had grabbed Pete by his collars and was trying to shake the answers out of him.

"Either you tell me who did this or let me find out this stalker!! Why are you stopping me, Pete?!"

His downcast eyes gave wings to my innermost delusions. As he chucked the last poster into the fire, I tried to grab it but Pete caged my wrists with his hands.

My face spun to him at this betrayal.

"Are you behind this?! Did you do this?!" It was as if someone else was making these accusations.

I failed to notice in that moment that due to our struggle, the drum had tilted over, spraying all the burning bits of wood, ball and bits of paper to the wind in the general direction of the school and Mr. Jackson's room.

By the time we realised what had happened, the curtains of Mr.Jackson's room and bushes around the school cafeteria were afire.

The sight of everything burning like my life choked the air in my lungs. Pete pushed me away and yelled at me to run.

Last memory I had of that day from twelve years ago was watching Pete rushing into Mr. Jackson's quarters and me running away from the biggest mistake of my life, without stopping to get help, to our house at Hyde Park into my Dad's study and collapsing into unconsciousness.

A/N: Sincere apologies for the late update. I didn't want to put up something half-hearted.

Hope am forgiven and you like what you read.

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