She heard the screams of her mom,
She heard her own screams.
But she couldn't move,
For she felt tethered-
Bound by chains that hung around her.
Strong chains that bit into her flesh.
Invisible chains,
Yet as powerful as the real ones.

.....................................

George pedalled through the winding lanes that cut through the neighborhood blocks. She was late for the third consecutive day. Mrs. Wallace might be sweet, but George knew that will not save her from getting a detention.

A detention on Friday was the last thing she needed.

The temperature was still fairly cold and though the pedalling imparted some warmth, George could still feel the chills seeping in through her full sleeved sweater. There was little she could do about it, although she did increase her pace. Fortunately she was getting nearer to her school. She could already see the top of the building from where she was then.

George was in her senior year at the Greenbury High School. The school was one of the oldest buildings in the small town of Greenbury, which was divided into two - the North and the South. Her house was in the Northern Greenbury, while the school stood somewhat at the intersection of the two. In fact all the main establishments of the town - the Little Muffin cafe, the supermarket, the hospital, the library and the cozy little bookstore tucked between them - were located in the vicinity of the school. This strategic positioning was intended so that every establishment was readily accessible to both North and South.

The first bell had already rung once when George was parking her bike. As she raced through the corridors, she was painfully aware that only seconds were left for the second bell that indicated the commencement of class. Naturally, by the time she reached the door to her class, and let out a frantic 'May I come in, Mrs. Wallace', she was breathing heavily through her mouth.

Mrs. Wallace was not amused.

"Late again, George?," she rumbled, as she stood up from her chair where she was sitting, probably after giving an hour's worth of assignments to the class.

George fumbled for an excuse. She couldn't give any that was related to her bike, for she had exhausted all of them to death. What she could do was to tell the truth.

She settled for half truth.

"Mom's ill, Mrs. Wallace. And dad's out of station. I am really sorry. Won't repeat it again. Promise."

This won't be the last time that she would be late to class. After all, circumstances were never under her control. That did not mean that she was insincere in her apology. She had promised to try and she will.

Her teacher too might have caught on to her will, for the familiar sparkle of warmth glittered in Mrs. Wallace's orbs as she waved George in.

"I hope so too, George. Now go to your seat and start solving the problems. I have marked the questions on the board."

As George steered to her seat, evading the curious gazes, she felt a weight lift from her shoulders.

That could have gone much worse.

.............................

It did go worse.

"It's unfair how Mrs Wallace treats you. You hear me? Totally unfair!"

George winced at how loud Autumn was being. Granted, it was lunchtime and the cafeteria was as noisy as it could be. But the shrillness of Autumn's voice cut through most of it, or atleast it felt so to her.

When she had first met Autumn in the elementary, the latter seemed intimidating and fiery to George. That assumption was not far off the mark, but years of friendship had taught her that beneath all those layers of hardness was a soft heart reserved exclusively for people whom Autumn cared about.

George was grateful to have a friend like her.

People were always in awe of their friendship. George was too, for a while; but the awe was soon replaced by admiration and respect.

Autumn was the colour to her bleakness; the noise to her silence.

That is why she remained silent, with a smile tugging on her lips, as she watched her friend gesturing wildly with her hands and her eyes as she tried to get George to understand why she thought Mrs. Wallace was partial to her.

"You have been late almost every day this week, and yet there she is, giving you a free pass every single time! How do you explain that, huh? Tell me."

George did not know.

"Maybe it's because I like Calculus?", she suggested meekly.

"Oh pssh... You are the prodigy of Greenbury High. You have been a straight A student since when? Forever?"

George tried to interrupt, but Autumn refused to leave her case alone. She apparently had been seeking out an opportunity like this to vent it all out.

"Speaking of which, have you given your confirmation to become the class valedictorian for this year?"

George closed her mouth at that and sat silent, still.

Maybe if she sealed her lips shut, Autumn would take her silence as confirmation?

But Autumn had an eye as sharp as a hawk. She picked up on her silence in the blink of an eye and narrowed her eyes.

"George? Why are you so silent? You will be the valedictorian, won't you?"

There was an edge to Autumn's question that alerted George to the fact that if they were going to have that particular conversation in the cafeteria, it was going to end up attracting the attention of the whole school.

That was not something to look forward to. She grew worried.

"Autumn", she whisper-shouted, "I promise that we will have this talk after school, okay? But please, not now. Not... Hey! where are..."

Apparently Autumn had correctly gauged the direction in which her pleas were going and hence was now dragging her by the wrist out of the cafeteria, drawing quite a few curious eyeballs.

George didn't want to aggravate the situation and so she kept quiet as Autumn brought them both to the bench under the shady willows, beside the playground. The ground was mostly bare, except for a few students loitering in the far corners. Just as Autumn had expected it to be.

She left George's hand, turned and almost growled,

"Talk".

George was still nervous.

"Autumn, I don't think..."

"Georgieva, talk!"George grimaced. " Yeah. Georgieva. Now talk! Or we could go back and do this in the cafeteria? Would that be okay with you?"

No, it would not.

George sighed.

"It's just...I-you know how clumsy I could get right? You have seen it first hand. Think about it. I would have to face them. All of them!"

She let an involuntary shudder at the thought. That would be a real nightmare.

"So? Everyone gets afraid in public. I do too. That's not a proper reason, George".

She should have known convincing Autumn of her fears would be an uphill task. Judging by the simmering glint in her friend's eyes, the task has not even halfway done. So she went on, almost frantically.

"Plus I hardly have any friends at class except you. You know that. So-so I am not sure they would want me to talk to them, you know?"George's voice had gone soft by the end.

It was true. She had never been a social butterfly but the past few years had her crawling into her shell more and more. She had pushed away anyone who tried to be friends. Her actions did not make her proud of herself but she had no choice."

Autumn's eyes softened."George, I love you, alright? You know that, don't you?"

George nodded. But that didn't mean she liked where this conversation was heading.

"Well then, hear me out, 'kay? We have been friends for all these years. I can't help but think about back then, when we had just become friends, you know? You were a bit-a bit more open. I agree we were kids then, but still. Now though? Now, it's like you are slowly becoming a shadow of that person I used to know, with each day. You get what I'm trying to tell?"

George did. So much so that she couldn't breathe. She felt as if someone had clamped down her throat.

Was she that obvious? If Autumn could read her then what guarantee did she have that others won't find out either? No. It's not possible. Autumn sees it because she is her best friend. That's it.

Autumn was oblivious of the churnings going on inside George's head.

"I am not saying that you are hiding things from me. Of course you would have business that you can't share with me. Everybody does, eh?"

Autumn let out a small chuckle at the end, as if to reassure George that it was okay.

But George saw the hurt flashing in her friend's eyes. She wanted to assuage Autumn's worries, tell her everything was okay. She was never a good liar though. So she did the next best thing she could do.

"I am sorry", George whispered," There is a lot of stuff going on, but nothing I can't handle. I promise."

Autumn did not look convinced, at all.

"If you say so. Then again, it is your life and I won't interfere until you ask. I can be real patient when I want to, you know?"

George had to smile at that. Autumn was the least patient person she knew, being just below her dad on the list.

That's saying something.

"Hey, don't laugh at your best friend like that, alright? I am telling the truth. Anyway, the point is, I understand there are reasons for your standoffish ways, and I'm saying this in a good way, 'kay?"

George nodded.

"Yet those reasons need not affect the way the world sees you, should it? I don't think so, atleast."

No, it doesn't. George was aware.

"So here's the game plan. You don't have to go out of your way to start a conversation. But if someone, on their own, comes to you, will you give them a chance?"

George felt uncomfortable at the notion.

"Come on, Georgie. Pretty please? For me?"

She sighed. Looks like there's no getting out of it now.