school ground was louder than usual.
Everyone knew that our time together at school was numbered.
"Let's make some memories," Prapti said, smiling, as the assembly came to an end.
Just when we thought the day was over, something unusual happened.
Our principal handed the microphone to a man none of us recognized.
"Six months," he said firmly. "That's how long this camp will last. Anyone interested in participating—raise your hand."
His presence alone demanded silence.
He didn't smile.
He didn't greet anyone.
"Let's do it, Naina! Our manifestation worked," one of my friends whispered excitedly.
One by one, their hands went up, eyes shining with excitement.
I raised my hand with them—hesitant, confused, unaware of what those six months would demand.
None of us had ever played volleyball. None of us were even interested.
It wasn't about the sport.
It was just about memories.
One memorable time. Nothing more, I whispered to myself.
Unknowingly, I stepped into the hardest six months of my life.
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