Recollections of childhood are preserved. Whether we can let go or not is a question I have. We didn't think we had anything to lose when we were children. I count myself among those who had the good fortune to have parents who loved us without conditions. Although our family was unique, other families around here don't really go through that. Each night, my mom and I would play together while she told us stories from the past. My grandma's stories about the war and how difficult life was for them both during and after it were especially funny, but at the conclusion, she would always thank God for his grace.
Skip forward In the early days of education, attending school was a depressing experience. When we had a better sense of who we were, we eagerly anticipated our bus' arrival to take us up. Our friend would occasionally hold a seat for us, but other times we would fight for a spot next to the window.
Morning sport and devotion was another exciting time we looked forward to; they had a habit of teaching us new songs every day. My mom used to love preparing our bags with our favorite snack at break after that, but we were picky about getting the swing first, not the food. If you were unsuccessful, you passed the time away with your pals telling stories or playing games.
It was an easy life back then, and I will always be thankful for those memories.
I assumed that since high school was boarding, we would bond more and live peacefully, making it more enjoyable than our prior level. Apart from my inner monologue, my sister arrived first; they provided her with plenty of food before she left. I was eager for my time to enjoy this kind of extravagance.
I wasn't sure how short I was until I got there because most of my friends were much taller than me. Old students had returned before the new ones, so I was looking for my sister and hoping she would come out to help, I was surprised to find that most of my friends were much taller than me when I arrived. The seniors who oversaw the check-in were even scarier. I looked around for playthings to pass the time during my break, but none were there, so I thought maybe this was a dungeon. My mother, Esther, called out to me, jokingly saying, "Yes, ma, you needed in the area where your to change your receipt." Since my dad was assisting there, I hurried in and joined the queue, and once I did so successfully, we headed for check-in.
It felt pointless, but I was still waiting for my sister to arrive. We asked, "How old are you?" in accordance with the list provided in order to purchase the goods. Nine Ma, inquired the woman in charge. In response, I said, "You sure she will cope? She's really younger than the rest." She made reference to my mother when she stated so, to which my mother, as usual, responded, "This one grew faster than her age; she picks up everything she teaches and performs greatly." The woman's look of disbelief was evident as she nodded.
The check-in period had ended. We were assigned to stay at my hostel. My bunkmate was already there when I arrived. I was attempting to arrange my belongings when a senior gave me a quick touch on the back.
A Few seconds later, she began ranting about her life, how she’s not my mate, and every other thing a senior can say to make the younger one feel intimidated. I was a bit confused but silent throughout. After her introduction, she requested to be my school. I turned her down. We embarked on a three day orientation where we were taught to the rules and regulations the anthems and whatsoever the found deem fit, we were being allocated to our different arms , nobody prepared me for the suffering I was about to embark on, we had this girl in my class rumor had it that she did the class before us but repeated, she swore to make our lives miserable and trust me.
She made every effort; she asked us to put her books in order, clean her shoes, and buy her something during break if she couldn't afford it. If you dare to disrespect her, she will punish you with the worst beatings you've ever received. All of this transpires when a teacher is absent from class. I never realized someone could be so resentful until that happened to me. The one where I failed to challenge her and became a victim really hit home for me. My pals and I had planned it, but they were too scared to talk to her. I moved closer to the senerio. I almost had a peep myself, but I couldn't find my I fought to find my voice someplace and almost peed myself. While I tried my hardest to insult, I was physically beaten into unconsciousness.
We were all too afraid, and nobody ventured to denounce her. She spent three years tormenting us. Every time I was brought to school, I would cry. My parents assumed it was the melancholy of moving away from home, not understanding the true struggles I faced each time.
As I pen this down I relived those moments, I don't wish my worst enemy to experience a bully.
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