Midnight Without Words

June 23, 2014

St. Anthoni Higher Secondary School, Puducherry

3rd Standard A Section

"Students, today we have a new student joining us," the teacher said, her voice warm but firm.

A tiny girl with two neat braids and a schoolbag almost bigger than her walked in, hugging a drawing book close to her chest. Her eyes sparkled as she looked around the classroom, already feeling like she belonged.

The teacher smiled. "Come on, dear. Introduce yourself."

The girl stepped forward without hesitation, grinning.

"Good morning, everyone!" she said brightly. "Myself Sri Mathi. I am six years old. I love drawing and playing kho-kho. Thank you!"

A few students giggled at her energy. Even the teacher chuckled.

"Very nice, Sri Mathi. You can sit next to Arjun," she said, pointing to the second row near the window.

Sri Mathi nodded and skipped down the aisle, giving a small wave to a couple of random kids. She dropped into the seat next to a boy who was quietly drawing lines in his notebook. He barely looked up.

"Hi, I'm Sri Mathi," she whispered, leaning a bit toward him.

The boy gave a tiny nod.

"What's your name?"

"Arjun," he mumbled, eyes still on his page.

"Cool!" she said cheerfully, already unzipping her pencil box. "Want to see my drawing? I made a house with a tree and even a dog!"

Arjun peeked at her page and gave a silent nod.

She smiled wide. "We're friends now," she announced.

Arjun didn't say anything, but he didn't object either.

That was enough for her.

As she placed her drawing book inside her desk, she noticed bruises on his knees—faint, but there. He tried to pull down his shorts, but she caught a glimpse.

"Hey... what happened here?" she asked, pointing at one of the marks.

Arjun froze for a second. Then quietly said, "I fell down... while playing cricket."

He said it so calmly, almost like he had rehearsed it. But Sri Mathi was too young to catch the hesitation in his voice or the fear behind his words.

All she knew was: such a good-looking boy was now her friend. And she was kind of proud about that.

From that moment, she started following him around like a shadow.

During the lunch break, she noticed him walking towards II Standard C Section. Curious, she followed.

He met a little girl who came out of the classroom quietly. She didn't speak, just walked behind him as they headed to a nearby empty ground.

They didn't eat. They only drank water from the tap.

Sri Mathi, standing nearby with her lunchbox in hand, walked up to them.

"Hey! Want to share my food? I have idly and chutney!"

Arjun was about to say no. But then his sister looked at him with expectant eyes.

He hesitated, then gave a small nod.

"Okay," he said.

They sat together on the steps of an empty corridor, quietly eating Sri Mathi's food. She talked. A lot. About cartoons. About how she hated milk. About how her mother packed too much chutney.

Neither Arjun nor his sister said much. But they listened. And they didn't leave.

That was how their bond started.

Here's an improved version of the ending paragraph of Chapter Eight, keeping your tone intact—natural, realistic, and reflective of Sri Mathi's cheerful personality. I've just polished the grammar, flow, and phrasing while staying true to your writing style:

From then on, it became their routine. Every morning, Arjun and his little sister, Arathiya, would quietly wait near the school gate for Sri Mathi. And wherever she went—assembly, prayer, games, library—they followed her like it was the most natural thing in the world.

With her mother's cheerful permission, Sri Mathi started bringing extra food in her tiffin box. "For your new little friends," her mother would say with a wink. It made Sri Mathi feel proud and important in her own little way.

In class, she and Arjun quickly became thick friends. He didn't talk much, but he always listened when she spoke. And slowly, slowly, he started talking too—but only to her.

They shared crayons, notebooks, and silly secrets behind textbooks. And of course, they got in trouble too.

Soon, the teachers had two kinds of "outstanding students" in 3rd standard A section.

One—for always topping the class.

And the other—for always standing outside it.

That's how their story began.