Note:
Written in April 2022, this is a raw, unfiltered piece straight from my mind—messy handwriting, unevenly remembered thoughts, and all. The original note, exactly as it was, is stored below, capturing every bit of the chaos and emotion I felt that day.
So, January 5, 2021—I was finally going to college after being trapped at home for months. Nitheesh called and told me to come because Jaswanth was coming the next day. Bro, I was dying to get out. Staying home felt like some jail sentence. I missed all the crazy fun we used to have before lockdown. So, without thinking much, I got ready.
Nitheesh came to pick me up, honking like a maniac—peep peep! I rushed down, and boom—shock of my life. This dude, who was once fit, was now a proper fatboy. Blue N95 mask covering half his face, but still, I could see the difference. I laughed so hard, and he got pissed. But whatever, we left.
College felt like an alternate dimension. Everyone had masks on, and I couldn’t recognize a single soul. But weirdly, everyone recognized me. Guess I hadn’t changed at all. We went straight to our old classroom, same spot—the last third bench. But something felt off. The place was too empty. Most of our batchmates were missing—probably still scared of COVID.
Then came the biggest shock. ALL our first-year teachers? GONE. Vanished. Manu sir, Srinivas sir, MVP sir—poof! I had seen some new faces during online classes, but I thought they were just guest lecturers or something. Nope. Our actual teachers were replaced. We had come expecting to see them, but now? Nothing. Just strangers.
The mood was dead. We looked at each other, and without saying much, we decided—screw this, we’re leaving. We told “VP” we were going out for lunch, then casually threw our bags into the next building and walked out like kings. We went to Badri, sat there, and continued Uncharted. It felt good, like old times.
Then… I went home. That’s when the horror began.
I stepped into my room, stretched a little, turned towards my desk—and stopped. Wait. Something was wrong. WHERE IS MY PC?!
Panic. Full-body sweat. My heart stopped. I ran to my mom, shouting, “WHERE IS MY PC?! WHERE?!” And she, with the calmness of a serial killer, said, “Oh, I gave it to my friend.”
WHAT?! WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!
I froze. She just… GAVE IT AWAY?! MY PC?! WHY?! HOW?! My brain stopped working. My hands are cold. My heart? Running up.The Pulse just RaisingUP Again. It wasn’t just a PC. It was my entire life. My memories. My secrets. My past. My Harshi .Everything I had hidden, locked away, safe from the world—just gone.
I looked at my table. Empty. A dead, lifeless space where my world used to exist. My hard disk, my files, everything ripped away. And the worst part? The CPU. The damn CPU……
Inside that CPU was my secret Hiding Place. Six years of my life buried in there. Her notes. Her handwriting. That stupid little paper where she had once written “I LOVE INDIA” in her messy, cute handwriting. My notes—some real crazy shit. Things no one was ever meant to see. Ever.
My head was spinning. I felt like throwing up. Someone else had it now. Some random stranger could open it, scroll through my memories, listen to my recordings, read my thoughts like flipping through a diary. My video calls, my passwords, my personal world—exposed.
And then, another horrifying thought struck me like lightning—What if my mom finds out what was inside?
She wouldn’t just kill me. She’d erase me from existence. Forget being grounded. I’d be wiped off the family tree. My whole life flashed before my eyes, every single mistake leading up to this moment.
I stood there, staring at the empty table, my body frozen in time. I wanted to scream. I wanted to run. But there was nowhere to go.
What should I do? No answer. Just silence. Just the feeling that today… was the worst day of my life.
I was terrified. My body felt like a ticking time bomb, ready to explode any second. My mind was running in circles, chasing every worst-case scenario. I had to act normal. I had to pretend like nothing was wrong. So, casually—very casually—I asked my mom, “What all did you give away?”
She listed some random things—old books, a few electronics. My heart was pounding. Did she see it? Did she open it? What about my diary? What about Harshi’s old class notebook? If my mom had seen them, she would have already killed me. So maybe… maybe she didn’t. Maybe her friend took everything as it was.
But that was even worse. Because now, her friend had it. And at some point, she was definitely going to open it.
The thought made my stomach twist. What if she read everything? What if she found those pages? My notes. My memories. My secrets. She would see everything—the things I never meant for anyone to see. And the moment she did, she would call my mom. And then I was dead.
I couldn’t sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw it happening. My mom picking up the phone. Her face changing. Her voice rising. Then, her footsteps outside my door. Then… nothing.
If my mom’s friend called her in the morning and told her everything—I wouldn’t even wake up. She’d kill me in my sleep. I’d never see the morning again….—
I woke up with a Shake, heart Beating, sweat All over. A dream… it was just a dream. But my hands were still shaking. The fear, the panic—it all felt too real.
And then, my eyes landed on the table. Empty. No CPU. No books. No notes.
Yesterday wasn’t a dream.
My mind was a mess, flashing between the past and present. The last time I had seen that note—Harshi’s note—was during our 5th-grade final exams. She had given me her Maths notebook to copy the notes, and inside, on a loose sheet, in her messy handwriting, she had written:
“I LOVE INDIA.”
Just like that, she was gone. She left school. I didn’t even get to say goodbye. That note, that notebook, was the only thing I had left of her… until I called her again in 8th grade. And now? Gone.
I felt a lump in my throat. Crying. Sobbing. Shaking. Not because of the CPU, not because of the files—because of that one note. I held onto it for so long, and now some random person had it. What should I do?
I didn’t sleep. I pretended to sleep, thinking, planning, spiraling. I didn’t even realize when I actually fell asleep.
I woke up at 7 AM, still pretending, still processing. Silence. My mom was talking to my dad about the market. “Today is Wednesday. We should go today. Sunday will be too crowded. COVID times, you know.”
So far… everything seemed fine.
When they left for the market, I called Nitheesh. Told him everything. He laughed. “Bro, just die. If she sees that stuff, she’s gonna kill you anyway. Just die first. Simple.”
Not helping, man. Not helping.
I needed to act fast. I grabbed my mom’s phone. Checked the call history. Yesterday, 10 AM.
Revathi Ma’am.
I knew her. She was a computer teacher.
My World sank. She was the one who took my PC.
I called her. She picked up. I didn’t say a word. I just listened. Waiting. Hoping. If she had opened it, she would definitely talk about it. But she didn’t.
Finally, I asked about my PC. She told me my mom gave it away because I was “wasting time in front of it.” Great. Just great.
I took a deep breath. I had to be careful now. “Actually, ma’am, I had some important backups. Photos, files… I need my extra hard disk. There were two inside—one for the OS and one extra. I just need that extra one.”
She laughed. “Oh, that? I sold it.”
WHAT?!
My hands went cold. “Where did you sell it?”
“It was some wholesale shop. Not sure exactly. But they said they send them to schools after formatting and reinstalling Windows.”
Safe.
They would never find out what was inside. But at what cost? Everything was gone.
I called Rohit. Told him everything. He came over and took me to Central Park, where most second-hand computer shops were. I called Revathi Ma’am again, trying to ask where exactly she sold it. She hesitated. I knew if I pushed too hard, she would definitely tell my mom.
So I hung up.
Then, we asked every shop. “Did anyone sell an Acer PC yesterday?”
“No.” “No.” “No.”
Every shop. Nothing.
The PC didn’t matter anymore. The note. The memories. The videos. The recordings.
Why was this happening to me?
I went home, exhausted, drained. And there she was. My mom. Waiting.
“Where were you?” “Why did you call her about the PC?”
She looked at me like I was an idiot. “I told her to take it away. Just focus on JEE Mains first. After your admission, I’ll buy you a new one. This time, you can build your own PC, like you always wanted.”
She wasn’t angry. She did this for me.
And I should have been happy. But inside, I felt nothing.
Because Harshi’s note. The photos. The call recordings.
Everything was gone.