"I want to talk to you… right now!"
He stared at his mother.
His eyes were trembling, filled with tears — not just sadness, but anger.
His mother stood there, confused, unsure how to react.
"Don't you know I'm busy rig—"
"Shut up!!"
Ravin's voice cut through her words before she could finish.
The anger in his voice wasn't normal.
It wasn't just anger… it was something deeper.
The teacher, still standing beside his mother, frowned in irritation.
"What the hell is going on here?!" he snapped.
His eyes shifted between them, not with concern… but annoyance.
"I paid full," he added, his voice sharp. "I'm not leaving halfway through this."
The teacher hesitated, clearly unwilling to leave.
"But—"
"I said, come tomorrow."
Her voice didn't change.
No anger. No hesitation.
Just a calm order.
The teacher clenched his jaw, frustrated.
For a moment, it looked like he might argue.
But then—
"...Fine."
He stepped back.
Ravin stood still at the doorway.
The teacher quietly gathered his things, avoiding eye contact.
"I'll… see you tomorrow. At school."
Now there were only him and his mother.
In the dead silence, Ravin spoke.
"Mom… why are you doing this work? People bully me at school… and in the neighbourhood. I don't have any friends at all."
He was in tears.
His throat felt heavy. It was hard to put his thoughts into words.
His mother looked at him, her expression unchanged.
"You know what? I run this family. Alone," she said sharply.
"Your father abandoned us. He lost all his money in gambling. He couldn't repay the loan he took from people."
She took a step closer.
"I was the one who paid all of it. We don't have any financial crisis now… keep that in mind."
Ravin clenched his fists.
"Okay… I get it. But why are you still continuing this work?" he asked, his voice shaking.
"You were a nurse before… why don't you go back to that job instead?"
His mother suddenly laughed.
A cold, careless laugh.
"Nurse?" she said, almost mocking him.
"Are you serious? I earn more in a single night than a nurse earns in a month."
Ravin looked down.
"But still…" his voice cracked,
"people hate me. I don't have any respect outside."
"They bully me every day…"
"Then get stronger."
Ravin's eyes widened.
"Get stronger?" he yelled, his voice shaking with anger.
"Just quit this job! We have enough money now!"
He stepped forward, unable to hold himself back.
"At least for the next ten years, we won't suffer from any financial crisis. And soon… I'll start working too."
His fists tightened.
"You don't have to do this anymore. We can leave this place… we can shift to Moscow and start a new life there!"
For a moment, silence filled the room.
Ravin's mother just looked at him.
And then—
she smiled.
Not a warm smile.
Something else.
Something that made Ravin's chest feel uneasy.
"Hmm…" she said softly, tilting her head slightly.
"Do you really think I do this work only for money?"
Ravin was confused.
"What do you mean by that?"
His voice was quieter now… uncertain.
His mother looked at him, almost amused.
"What I mean is…" she said calmly, "I kind of like this work now."
She took a step closer.
"I enjoy it."
Ravin didn't move.
"Of course," she continued, her voice soft but sharp, "you can't quit something you enjoy… can you?"
A faint smile appeared on her lips.
"Even you can't quit story writing, can you… my dear son?"
For a moment—
everything went silent.
Ravin felt a sudden chill run through his body.
His breath hitched.
His skin tightened as goosebumps spread across his arms.
His heart started racing.
Ravin rushed into his room without replying anything to his mother. He slammed the door shut behind him, the sound echoing through the house.
"I can't take this anymore… I'm fucking done now!!"
His chest rose and fell rapidly.
Everything felt suffocating.
The walls… the silence… even his own thoughts.
He stopped in the middle of the room, clenching his fists so tightly his knuckles turned pale.
"I just fucking can't now… it's finally ending this night."