The Day We Started Over

CHAPTER 13 – FACING THE STORM AGAIN

The morning air carried an unusual chill, the kind that crawled under your skin and settled in your chest. Aisha woke slowly, the remnants of last night’s anxiety clinging to her like a heavy blanket. Her mind immediately went to Kamal.

He had stayed up late again, sketching in his room. She remembered the intensity in his eyes the day before, the way his hands had shaken as he defended himself against the bullies. He was stronger, yes, but the fear lingered, a shadow that refused to leave.

⸻

At school, the tension was tangible. Rumors about the new group of bullies had spread fast. Everyone seemed to sense it — whispers, sideways glances, hushed warnings.

Aisha spotted Kamal under their mango tree. He was already there, sketchbook in hand, face tense, shoulders rigid. When he saw her, he gave a small, shaky smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“They’re planning something,” he whispered as she knelt beside him. “I saw them near the gate this morning… talking. Laughing. But not the same as yesterday. Meaner. Organized.”

Her stomach twisted. “Then we prepare,” she said firmly. “Together. Like always.”

Kamal nodded slowly, eyes flicking to his sketchbook. He began drawing — not the chaotic shadows of yesterday, but something structured, defensive. Lines forming barriers, walls, protective symbols. His creativity was his armor, his words unspoken but powerful.

⸻

The first period passed in a blur. Both tried to focus, but their minds kept returning to the threat looming just outside the classroom. Every sound made Kamal flinch; every movement reminded him of yesterday’s terror.

During lunch, Aisha pulled him aside. “We need a plan,” she said. “We can’t just react. We need to be ready.”

Kamal nodded, tapping his pencil against the sketchbook. “I… I’ve thought about it. Maybe… maybe we can use the alley behind the mango tree. It’s narrow, hard to approach. I can… I can make distractions if they come near.”

Aisha’s eyes widened. “You mean… use your drawings?”

He nodded. “Not magic… just… strategy. Timing. Fear of the unknown. They hesitate. I… I can’t explain it fully, but it works sometimes.”

Her chest tightened. He was growing stronger, cleverer, but the danger was real, and she felt it in her bones.

⸻

After school, the bullies appeared. Not the same ones as before, but a larger, more organized group. They flanked the alley near the mango tree, looking for a confrontation.

Kamal froze, gripping his sketchbook. Aisha stepped in front of him instinctively.

“Stay back,” she warned, voice steady. “You won’t get near him.”

The leader sneered. “Or what?”

Kamal opened his sketchbook. He drew rapidly, lines forming illusions of barriers, shadows that seemed to stretch unnaturally, shapes that confused the bullies. Each stroke was deliberate, defensive, creating a psychological tension even they could feel.

Aisha stood firm beside him, breathing steady, radiating calm determination.

The bullies advanced. One lunged at Kamal. He froze — then drew, fast and decisive. The lines and shapes created a split-second distraction. The boy stumbled, giving Aisha the chance to grab a branch from the ground and swing it in defense.

Chaos erupted. Kamal moved, drawing rapidly, the pencil like a sword in his hand, protecting himself while Aisha’s presence anchored him.

Finally, the leader shouted. “Retreat! We’ll get you next time!”

They scattered, leaving Kamal and Aisha alone.

⸻

Breathing heavily, Kamal sank to the ground. “I… I couldn’t have done it without you,” he whispered.

Aisha smiled softly, brushing hair from his forehead. “You did most of it. You’re getting stronger. I’m just here to remind you.”

He exhaled, tension slowly leaving him. “I… I think… maybe I can face anything now. Even them. Even the storm inside me.”

Aisha leaned against him under the mango tree. “Together,” she said. “Always together.”

The wind rustled the leaves above, soft but protective, carrying with it the quiet promise that no matter how dark the storms, they had each other.

But somewhere beyond the school yard, shadows still lingered. New threats waited. Old fears simmered. The storm wasn’t over — but Kamal and Aisha had learned something crucial: they were no longer powerless.