NEW SS- BACK IN TIME PART 1

Hello I m starting a New SS (based on one novel)
Here is Small Part

PRIYA'S POV


The day I found out that Ram Kapoor  killed himself, I didn't know what to think.

  I stared up at Mrs. Mehra, our French teacher, with a blank look on my face, not really believing what I'd just heard.
 "Fir Se bol Kya hua (Said again what happen)?" one of the girls sitting beside me said in a light voice...



  Mrs. Mehra sighed heavily as she took off her glasses and polished them with hanky. "Ram Kapoor committed suicide yesterday evening."

  I swallowed hard as I slouched backwards in my seat, feeling the color draining from my face. That's what I thought Mrs Mehra had said. Normally the woman was so lost in her own little world and babbling things in French that I thought I could've passed off what she'd said as another bit of nonsense.
  But I knew that this time that wasn't exactly the case.

The more I thought about what she'd said, the more I realized that it sort of did make sense.

   When I'd first walked into the college Half hour Ago ago, I couldn't help but feel like
Kuch galat hua ya Hone wala hai (something had gone wrong or going to wrong), like there was this massive cloud of depression hovering over the place. I'd even seen bits of the staff clustered together in the way, their heads together as they talked quickly and quietly in furious whisperings.
  At first I'd just assumed that maybe there was a Fight or Police case or MMS scandal in the college or something. But did All this really cause looks of sorrow and horror to be on teachers' faces?

 "Who's Ram Kapoor ?" another girl from the back of the classroom shouted, 

  Mrs. Mehra's tired looking eyes sparked with anger as she glared at the offender in the back of the room. "A very important member of this student body, and I do suggest you refrain from speaking like that again."

 The entire class stunned

Mrs. Mehra never talked like that.

  I listened only half heartedly to what our teacher said next, explaining how psychologists from town offices would be coming to school every day for the next two weeks to help people cope with what they were feeling. She kept talking about how it wasn't good that we should bottle up our emotions and how we should remember Ram with glad, happy memories instead of what he'd done.

  Well, I had enough trouble sharing my emotions, and I wasn't about to change that anytime soon.

  When the first period bell rang, I leapt up out of my chair, grabbed my things, and bolted from the room before anyone else had even realized it was time to leave.

  I really didn't know why I was feeling like a complete and utter mess. It wasn't like I'd been best friends with Ram Kapoor or anything.

 He was tall and had dark, unmanageable hair, along with a pale, sharply defined face that would have looked highly aristocratic on anybody else. Actually, Ram was a pretty damn handsome guy, which made it all the more confusing as to why he was such an antisocial outcast.

  Maybe it was because he just didn't like anybody. Or maybe it was because everyone else just didn't like him.

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