The Day We Started Over

CHAPTER 14 – THE STORM WITHIN AND WITHOUT

The morning sunlight filtered through the classroom windows, but Kamal barely noticed. He sat with his sketchbook open, fingers tapping nervously against the edge of the page. The events of the previous days replayed in his mind like a relentless storm: bullies, fear, the first time he’d stood up for himself, and Aisha — calm, steady, unwavering.

Yet, as the adrenaline faded, a new tension settled over him. The storm wasn’t only outside. It lived inside, still whispering doubt, fear, and the echoes of past abuse.

Aisha noticed immediately. She slid her hand gently over his, grounding him. “Breathe,” she whispered. “You’ve survived everything before. You’ll survive today too.”

He closed his eyes, letting the warmth of her presence seep in. “I… I don’t know if I can,” he admitted. “Even if the bullies are gone, the storm inside… it’s still here. Always here.”

“You’re stronger than it feels,” she said softly. “And you don’t face it alone anymore. Remember that.”

⸻

During break, they went to their secret spot under the mango tree. The quiet was comforting, yet Kamal’s hand trembled as he sketched. This time, his lines were tentative, hesitant, reflecting the anxiety clawing at him.

Aisha leaned closer. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I don’t even know if I can put it into words. It’s… chaos. All the fear, all the pain. I… I thought I could just draw it away, but it doesn’t leave. It just… hides until I’m alone again.”

Her heart ached. She had felt the same once, trapped in silence and pain. “Maybe we can try something different,” she suggested. “Not just drawing, but… talking, sharing. One step at a time. I’ll stay with you through all of it.”

Kamal hesitated, pencil hovering. Then slowly, he nodded. “Okay,” he whispered.

⸻

The next moments were a delicate dance of trust. He drew and described in broken sentences, revealing fragments of memory — his father’s rage, the nights he hid under blankets to escape the shouting, the bruises that weren’t just physical but etched into his mind.

Aisha listened, offering soft reassurances and gentle touches. Each word he shared, each sketch he created, chipped away at the walls he’d built around himself.

“I… I hate that it took me this long to feel safe with someone,” Kamal admitted, eyes wide and vulnerable. “I don’t… I don’t even know if I can ever fully trust.”

“You will,” Aisha said firmly. “It takes time. And we’ll do it together. Every step.”

⸻

The afternoon brought a new tension: a message from the school’s bulletin board — a notice for an upcoming inter-class competition. It seemed harmless, but for Kamal, it was a trigger. Being put on display, being the focus… it reminded him of all the times he had been forced into fear, spotlighted by cruel eyes.

Aisha noticed his stiffening posture and tightened her grip on his hand. “We’ll face it together,” she said. “You don’t have to be afraid alone.”

The coming days became a test of their trust and courage. Kamal prepared, sketching strategies not just to cope with the bullies but to navigate public scrutiny, drawing barriers, protective shapes, and symbols of resilience.

⸻

Then came the confrontation. The competition day arrived, but so did the bullies — the ringleader this time bolder, more determined, sneering from the sidelines. Kamal’s stomach churned, panic threatening to rise, but Aisha was by his side, grounding him, whispering reassurance.

He sketched frantically in his notebook, his drawings a shield, a distraction, a way to channel fear into strategy. When the first bully approached, Kamal didn’t flinch. He faced him with controlled calm, aided by Aisha’s unwavering support.

The tension was almost unbearable. Every movement felt charged with danger. But as the bully advanced, something shifted. Kamal’s courage, honed by the trust he had built with Aisha, became palpable. He drew decisively, his pencil movements precise, creating space between them, confusing and disarming the aggressor.

Finally, the bully retreated, frustration written across his face. Kamal exhaled, trembling but triumphant. Aisha smiled softly, proud and relieved.

“You did it,” she whispered. “You stood tall. You faced it.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Kamal replied, eyes glistening.

They walked home slowly, under the shadow of the mango tree. The storm outside hadn’t fully passed, and the storm inside wasn’t gone either. But they had survived another test. They had strengthened their bond, learned the power of trust, and discovered that even amidst fear, courage could bloom.