The exam was over.
Noel stared at the ceiling of the examination hall, his pencil still resting between his fingers. Three hours of writing had left his hand numb, his brain empty, and his soul... exactly the same as before.
Well, he thought, that happened.
He handed in his paper without a second glance. No nervous re-reading. No last-minute corrections. What was done was done.
Outside, the sun was warm. Other students buzzed around him like excited bees, comparing answers, groaning about questions they'd messed up, already planning celebrations.
Then someone slapped his back — hard.
"Yo! Noel! You look like a ghost who forgot how to haunt!"
Noel turned. Rion. His only real friend. Possibly the loudest human being alive.
"Exam sucked my soul out," Noel said flatly.
Rion grinned. "Good thing I'm here to shove it back in. Come on — let's grab some food. My treat. You look like you haven't smiled since last year."
Noel shrugged. "Okay."
They went to a small shop near the school — the one with the good momos and the old auntie who always gave extra chili. Rion talked nonstop about the exam, about a new game coming out, about some drama with his neighbor's cat. Noel listened, nodded, ate, and felt... normal. Comfortable.
For an hour, life was just life.
---
They parted ways near the banyan tree.
"Don't die of boredom before summer ends!" Rion called out, already walking backward, waving.
Noel raised a hand. "No promises."
He walked on, alone now.
Summer holidays. Two whole months of nothing. What was he supposed to do? Sleep? Stare at the ceiling? Play video games until his eyes turned square?
Then an idea formed.
A really annoying idea.
His sister.
She was home for the summer too — working from home, taking calls, pretending she was a Very Important Adult. What if... what if every time she was on an important call, he just... walked in? Asked random questions? Brought Ditto in to bark?
Noel smiled. A real smile.
This summer just got interesting.
---
The walk continued.
Left at the corner shop. Straight past the old banyan tree. Right at the petrol pump. Same route. Same steps. Same everything.
Until it wasn't.
Near the bend before the petrol pump, Noel heard music. Loud. Bass so heavy it vibrated in his chest. A car was parked crookedly on the side of the road, doors open, four guys standing around it. They were laughing too loud, moving too loose, eyes too glassy.
High. Definitely high.
Noel's steps slowed.
One of them turned. Looked directly at him.
Noel's blood went cold.
The man didn't speak. Didn't move. Just stared. His eyes were empty and sharp at the same time — like a snake watching a mouse. A slow smile curled on his lips. Not friendly. Not threatening. Just... aware.
Noel felt it. A phantom sensation — like a knife pressed against his throat. Like if he moved wrong, if he breathed too loud, that smile would turn into something else.
He looked away. Kept walking. Not too fast. Not too slow. Just... past them. Through them. Away.
His heart pounded. His hands felt sweaty.
Don't look back. Don't look back. Don't—
He didn't look back.
---
By the time he reached the petrol pump, his throat was dry. Bone dry.
Soda, he thought. Just need soda. Sit for a minute. Calm down.
He bought a bottle of cold orange soda from the small shop. Drank half of it standing there, letting the fizz burn his throat. His heartbeat slowly returned to normal.
He was fine. He was okay. Those guys were gone now, probably.
Then he heard it.
Loud music. Bass. Laughter.
The same car. Barreling down the road from the direction he'd just come. Going way too fast. Swerving.
Noel's hand tightened on his soda bottle.
The driver was one of them — the same glassy-eyed man who'd stared at him. He was laughing, steering sloppily, the car zigzagging across the road. His friends hung out the windows, whooping, bottles in their hands.
And coming from the opposite direction —
A truck.
Big. Fast. Horn blaring.
The driver saw the truck too late. He yanked the wheel. The car swerved wildly — left, right, left again — missing the truck by inches.
But the truck swerved too.
Straight toward Noel.
For one frozen second, their eyes met. The truck driver's face — wide-eyed, terrified, mouth open in a scream Noel couldn't hear.
Then Noel's brain caught up.
"FUUUCCCKKK!"
He threw himself sideways. Ran. Dived. The truck's side mirror screamed past his ear — but its front bumper caught his bag.
The strap yanked hard. Noel's body twisted. He felt himself lifted, thrown, rolling across the rough ground. Rocks scraped his arms. His head smacked something. The world spun.
He stopped rolling.
For a moment — silence. Just his ragged breathing, his pounding heart, his shaking hands and legs. Sweat poured down his face. His ears rang.
He turned his head.
The truck had crashed into the petrol pump.
And then the world exploded.
---
Heat. Light. Sound so loud it wasn't sound anymore — just force.
Noel was lifted again, thrown backward, slammed against a wall. Something else hit him — a piece of metal? wood? he couldn't tell. His body screamed.
Fire erupted. The petrol pump became an inferno. Nearby vehicles caught, exploded one by one. Shockwaves punched through the air like invisible fists.
Noel lay on his back, facing the sky.
He couldn't move.
He tried. Nothing. His ribs — broken. His spine — wrong. Everything screamed. He screamed too. Shouted. Cried out. Blood dripped from his mouth. Blood soaked the back of his head.
This is it.
The thought came calmly, strangely, through the pain.
This is how I die.
He hadn't even started summer. Hadn't annoyed his sister. Hadn't played with Ditto. Hadn't done anything.
His mother. His father. His sister. Ditto.
What were they doing right now? Did they know? Were they waiting for him to come home?
Tears slipped from his eyes, mixing with blood, with sweat, with the ash falling from the sky.
I don't want to die.
He heard sirens. Far away. Then closer. Then very close.
Shapes moved around him. Voices.
"Fire's spreading — get the hoses!"
"Someone's here — injured! Bring the stretcher! Now!"
Hands touched him. Careful. Urgent. He was lifted — placed on something. A stretcher. Moving. The ambulance doors.
Hope flickered in his chest. Small. Weak. But there.
I'm gonna survive, he told himself. There's no way I'm dying like this.
The medics worked fast. One pressed on his chest. Another put an oxygen mask over his face. He heard their voices — distant, muffled.
"Stay awake! Hey — stay with us!"
He tried. He really tried. But his body was done. The adrenaline was gone. Everything felt cold. Numb. Far away.
He tried to nod. Tried to say something. His eyes fluttered.
Closed.
Beep. Beep. Beeeeeeeeeeeeee—
The medic checked his pulse. His face stiffened. He looked at the other medic. Shook his head once. Closed Noel's eyes.
"He's gone."