Read Looking back :: Chapter 17 that which remains unbroken

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Chapter 17 – That Which Remains Unbroken

Don hadn’t written that much in months.

Three full pages, his fingers cramped, ink smudged by hurried lines and scattered raindrops. The journal he wrote in was Aarya’s old diary, now half-filled with his thoughts too — a silent collaboration between two broken siblings across time.

The day after his visit to the old basketball court, he walked into school feeling like something inside him had shifted.

Not healed — just shifted.

He didn’t sit alone that day.

Jake had been saving him a seat in the back corner of the classroom.

Gor nudged Don with a smirk. “Took you long enough. I was getting used to sitting next to Jake’s lunchbox.”

Jake rolled his eyes. “Better than your snoring in history class.”

They laughed. It was small — fleeting — but real.

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During the lunch break, the three sat on the school rooftop again. A thin sun warmed their backs as Jake shared something new: an old, cracked photograph.

It was them.

The three of them, in second grade — grinning in front of the school banyan tree, faces smudged with mud from playing tag.

Don stared at it.

He couldn’t remember the exact day. But he remembered the feeling.

Safety.

Home.

“I thought we lost this,” Don said quietly.

Jake smiled. “It was in my drawer the whole time. I found it last night and thought maybe… we should have it together again.”

Don took the photo in his hands and nodded. “Let’s keep it safe this time.”

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Later that week, something unexpected happened.

Mr. Mehta, the literature teacher, read one of Don’s essays aloud in class — anonymously.

It was about loss. About silence. About how grief was like smoke — always lingering in the air, unseen but choking.

No one knew Don had written it.

Except Jake and Gor.

Jake turned to Don with wide eyes. “That was yours?”

Don shrugged. “Just some words.”

“You should publish that someday.”

Don didn’t answer.

But in his heart, something stirred. A small light. A tiny flicker of belief.

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That evening, Jake suggested they all go to the town's book fair. It was tradition once — every winter, the three of them would run through the crowded aisles, collecting comics, cheap pens, and stickers.

They hadn’t done it in years.

This time, they went silently.

It was different.

No running. No pushing. Just browsing.

Jake picked up a poetry book and read lines aloud with exaggerated drama. Gor complained about prices. Don, quietly, picked a tattered copy of Of Mice and Men.

Jake noticed. “Didn’t you already read that in eighth?”

Don nodded. “Aarya loved it. She used to read it aloud when I was sick.”

Jake didn’t say anything. He just placed a hand gently on Don’s shoulder.

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On the way home, the three of them passed an alley filled with graffiti. One tag stood out — “B.F.G.”

Jake frowned. “What’s that?”

Don stared.

Blue Fang Gang.

He didn’t answer. Not yet.

Gor raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

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That night, Don opened Aarya’s diary again and scribbled another page.