A Bangladeshi Teenager

It could go well But....

Oronno's P.O.V

I has just arrived home. I am thinking about what Rahi said.

"What can I do to make her feel better? Is there anything I can do? I don't know what I can do. But I am surely gonna try. I don't want to see her like this. She is miserable but why is it affecting me so much?" I think.

Rahi liked art. She likes to ride on her cycle. Maybe she likes music. There must be anything which will make her happy. What can it be?

I called her.

"Hello, Rahi?"
"Hey!"
"What were you doing?"
" Just before you called I was thinking what I have done to myself and to the kids."
"What have you done to the kids?"
"We don't even know where they are."
" What do you mean by that? They must be at their homes."
"They aren't. I just called to talk to them. Just to feel better. But then I got to know that none of them is home and they haven't come  for a long time."
"Oh is that so?"
"It is all my fault, Oronno."

Rahi hangs up the call. And start to think. I know a person who can help us. All we need is support of an adult. She can be the one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I enter the classroom and search for Ms Hasan. She had always been a nice person to me and Rahi and maybe she can help us. Maybe. I don't know. But i just want to try my best to make Rahi happy.

I see kids are drawing pictures. I ask him," Can you tell me where is Ms Hasan?"

He replies, " Madam is upstairs attending a meeting. She will be down here soon. You can wait if you wanna meet her."

I thank the kid and rest myself by a wall. I observed my nails while waiting for Ms Hasan and thinking of what i can do.

I wait for sometimes then i see Ms Hasan coming. I greet her and she replies with a smile.

Observing my facial expressions she guesses that there is something I want to tell her.

She asks," What's it? I have never seen you like this. I mean i know you as a jolly minded boy. Why is your face all gray and what is about the tension on those forehead of yours?"

I suddenly become surprise at how she has understood my problem. I start to explain, " Madam, actually i have something to share. I searched a lot of people to share this matter with but no one seems to be enough supportive."

"What is that?" She askes.

I briefly explain," There used to be a slum where Rahi used to go. I hope you remember the girl Rahi. Few days ago I got to know her. And soon we became good friends. She was a really nice girl with such a good heart but something terrible happened to us. Actually to her. One day she told me that she wanted to do something for the slum kids. I guess we both were so immature that we thought we can change the kids' life all by ourselves. I knew a journalist. He was actually a freelancer. He told me that he can help us by providing the kids with education and other facilities like some NGO. I suggested Rahi to contact with that guy and then we contacted with him." I stop to take a breath and look at Ms Hasan who was looking at me eagerly like she really wants to know what happened. I again start," We all thought that those children were gonna have good life now. One day, Rahi's another friend Aria told us that her teacher saw kids taking drugs in that slum. Her teacher went there to do a survey most probably. I am not sure though. We committed our second mistake then . Ma'am i hope I am not bothering you." I trailed off.

She shakes her head and says," I want to know what happened. Let me see if i can do something. Continue."

I continue," We went to the slum without informing anyone and we entered the hut kind of room in that park beside the slum. That was the place the kids were supposed to get education. We saw there was nothing but big cartons and we searched there and found little packets of drugs and Rahi became furious. And we thought we ourselves can caught them. Duh. We somehow got trapped in the room and the next day we got caught by them. Then we made a plan to escape. Actually Rahi made that plan and she helped us to escape but she couldn't get out herself." I stop and look down at my nails.