Aru traced her fingers over the circles where the ink was smudged. She wondered if the smudges were due to the kid's dried-up tears.

So this child, she thought, had been ten years old when they'd written this entry. Ten and already having to deal with all this crap. She pitied them.

They were also surprisingly articulate for a ten-year-old. What had made that little kid grow up so fast?

"...dhati. Hello? Miss Arundhati?"

Aru snapped her head up, cheeks reddening in embarrassment.

"Yes, Professor?"

"What, pray tell, could possibly be more interesting than the international relationship between America and England?"

Literally anything.

Aru bit her tongue to stop herself from saying it out loud.

"Nothing. Sorry, Professor."

The Professor gave her one last glare before resuming his lecture. Suffice to say, she was not a class favorite. She slumped down in her seat, trying her very best to pay attention. It was all for nothing.

Who was this kid? Why were their words taking up her every breathing moment? Did she know them?

Aru almost felt as if the person was standing next to her, fingers brushing her elbow as she ran through the hall to her next class, curling up in the seat next to her during Psych.

Who are you?

Holed up in her room at the end of the day, she curled up around the diary. It smelled musty and.... oddly nostalgic. It reminded her of something familiar, something from long ago. A dream, perhaps? It was comforting. Her fingers caressed the pages. She performed this sacred ritual every time before flipping open the pages and letting her eyes float over the scuffed words.

'Father is back...'

'He screamed again today...'

'I found Mom crying in the laundry room...'

'"You're your mother's son..."'

This boy's whole world revolved around his deadbeat dad, Aru realized. The same dad who gave him this notebook. The same dad who made his wife and son cry. Aru's home life wasn't exactly picture-perfect either, and she empathized with this child.

"I am so sorry for your loss, Miss Shah."

Aru flinched. Time to put the book down.

That night, she felt the impressions of warm hands on her skin and the faintest scent of sandalwood drift through her room, like something from a dream...

A/N: hehe look guys I wrote something! With my lovely beta writer Autumn ofc and gorgeous art done by Bea!!!!!! Isn't it the prettiest thing you've ever seen??? Tysm to her for this. Also I made a playlist to match the vibe!! It'll be in the comment attatched to this paragraph! Happy reading!!