I was fifteen the day I stepped into my college for the first time.
New building. New faces. New fear.
I didn't know anyone there, so I did the only thing that felt safe—I walked to the last bench and sat down. Quiet. Invisible. For one whole week, that bench became my world. Slowly, a few faces turned into friends. Not close ones. Just familiar.
I already had friends before her.
Three of them.
We weren't inseparable yet, but we were comfortable. We shared benches, notes, and random laughs during lectures. Life felt steady—nothing extraordinary, nothing missing.
She wasn't someone who suddenly walked into my life like a dramatic entry.
We met because of friends.
My friends knew her friends. Her circle overlapped with ours. Conversations mixed. Benches changed. Groups blended. And somewhere between shared jokes and casual hellos, she became part of my everyday life.
She still felt dangerous yet dramatic. Confident in a way that made people notice her. I didn't think much about it then—I just knew she was there.
And somehow, that was enough.
Maybe it was a shared laugh. Maybe a random conversation. Or maybe life just decided for us.
Days passed. Our circle grew—seven of us. Then time did what it always does. Seven became five. Five became four. And soon, it was just three of us.
Those two years… they felt like a lifetime.
The three of us slowly got to know each other—not on purpose, not forcefully. It just happened. Our vibes matched in a way that felt rare. Same humor. Same madness. Same comfort.
We went out together. Roamed around without any plans. Enjoyed the smallest things like they were big celebrations. Every happy day felt fuller because it was us.
After college, there was one place that belonged only to us.
The road point.
Every single day, without fail, we stood there. Bags hanging from our shoulders, minds tired from lectures, mouths full of complaints.
"Today's lecture was pure torture," one of us would say.
"And you still slept through half of it," another would laugh.
We talked about everything—lecturers, exams, random college drama, silly misunderstandings. We made fun of each other endlessly. No filters. No limits. Just laughter spilling onto the road.
And then there were the rooftop evenings.
One of our friend's terrace became our escape. Kurkure packets, random snacks, sharing food without caring whose it was. Sitting there until the sky slowly turned dark. Watching the day fade, while our conversations never did.
We studied together. We enjoyed together. We did everything together.
People in college didn't really like us.
But no one hated us either.
We were loud. We were honest. We were different.
We felt like gangsters in our own little world—unbothered, fearless, and completely ourselves.
But even during those perfect days, something inside me had started changing.
I didn't notice it then.
I just felt it.
And that feeling was waiting for the right moment to surface.
And with that the day ended , who knows what tomorrow holds...