Ra ta ta ta ta ta ta

- Akash

He woke up.

Sweating. Shaking. Head spinning. Everything was a blur. His mind was racing.

“Robert!” his mother called, “Get up! You will be late for school!”

But he didn’t hear her.

Ra ta ta ta ta ta ta.

That’s all he could hear.

“And what is so important that keeps stealing your attention from my class Robert?” his teacher shouted angrily. “Or do you just want to fail my class too?”

His eye darted around him. Everyone was looking at him. Judging. Cold. Mocking.

And yet,

Ra ta ta ta ta ta ta.

That’s all he could hear.

“Young man” his father continued, “You need to focus on school, not on those video games, or I will have to confiscate them”

“And stop talking to your friends so much” his mother said, “You will not die if you don’t talk to them after school”

He never looked up. His palms were sweaty. On the verge of tears.

And still,

Ra ta ta ta ta ta ta.

That’s all he could hear.

He sat on his bed, mind racing. Thoughts he never wanted to have, resurfaced.

“You are nothing” they said.

“Worthless” said another.

“Alone in this cruel world”

“Never understood”

“This world isn’t for your kind”

“This world isn’t for you”

Slowly, he got up.

His legs woobly. His hands shaking.

“Ra ta ta ta ta ta ta”, he hummed.

No more, he thought, a smile forming on his face.

Slowly, he opened the door.

Tears fell from his eyes.

“Ra ta ta ta ta ta ta”, he sung.

He looked at the knife.

“No” the voices said.

He looked at the gas stove.

Yes.

“So, what did you see exactly?” the reporter asked the firemen, who were the first responders to the fire that had engulfed the apartment.

“Well, it was a gruesome sight for sure” one of them said. “People screaming, some running, some stuck under burning debris.”

“But that’s not what truly scared us” he continued. “On the second floor, when we entered the 2nd room , we saw him. A boy. Maybe 16 or 17. He was sitting on the burning sofa. We tried calling to him, but he just looked at us, smiling.”

“Ra ta ta ta ta ta ta” the others said “that’s what he kept singing. It looked like a horror show, you know? Like we were seeing a ghost”

“So it was him who started the fire?” the reported pushed.

“Well, we cant be sure, but it is highly likely. The source of the fire was that room.”

“Must have been some psychopath, eh?” the men laughed.

But no one understood. No one tried to save him.

They just judged.

Like all people do

They judged.

- Debanjan Laha