It wasn't just a love story. It wasn't just about romance. It was about the friendships formed when you were thrown into a new world-away from home, away from family. The shelter of your parents still existed, but it no longer shielded you like befo...
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𝐒𝐨𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐊𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭
Why? Why would they keep me here?
That was my first real thought after a week of staying in this stupid school.
I’m just twelve. Twelve. That’s barely anything. Why did they send me so far away from home—to a boarding school I didn’t even want in the first place?
Well, technically, I did.
I was the one who studied hard for the entrance exam. The one who pushed herself through mock tests and practice papers, who stayed up late even when my legs ached. I remember how proud everyone was. My family celebrated when I got in.
This place was supposed to be a dream.
And now?
Now, it’s a nightmare.
Passed the entrance exam, cracked the interview, packed my bags, and here I am. In a school that looks more like a jail and feels worse than one.
Strange for a twelve-year-old to say that, isn’t it?
Well, yes. But I’ve always been like this—too mature for my age, too aware. That’s what my teachers used to say. “She’s wise beyond her years.”
And now I regret it. Every bit of it. I wish I had just stayed in my local school with my friends, even if it meant giving up a so-called better future.
All I do is cry. Every single night.
Crying into my blanket, muffling the sobs so no one hears me. I don’t want to be the crybaby here. I already feel like the odd one out.
Back home, I was the friendly kid. The one who could talk to strangers and turn them into friends. But here? These girls aren’t like the ones I knew. They’re colder. Sharper. Like they’ve already picked who’s worthy of their attention—and I’m not on the list.
There are almost five hundred students in this boarding school, plus a hundred staff. But from day one, all I’ve felt is loneliness. How is that even possible?
I remember my first day so vividly it hurts.
The admission process was done three days before, and I was supposed to move in on a Monday. I was excited that morning. Nervous, yes—but mostly excited.
We reached early. I was in my best clothes. My bag was brand new, smelling of fresh plastic and ambition. Mom had neatly folded my clothes inside. Dad kept checking things off a list. It was all so… normal. Until they said goodbye.
I tried to smile. I tried to wave and act like I was okay.
I wasn’t.
The moment they left the dorm, I sat on my bed and burst into tears. That wasn’t just crying. It was the kind of sobbing that left you empty.
