Bound By Scars

The school was a den of wolves.And I was always the prey.Every morning, I walked through those gates knowing exactly what awaited me inside. Not lessons. Not friendships.Not hope.Not a normal life like the other students who laughed freely in groups as they entered the building. What waited for me was something else entirely.Silence before the storm. Whispered planning.Eyes that followed me like I was something already marked.I learned early that being invisible was safer than being seen. So I became quiet. I kept my head down. I walked fast through corridors and never stayed in one place longer than necessary.But it never mattered.People like Marcus always found me anyway. That morning started like all the others. The sky was still pale, not fully awake, as I pedaled my old bicycle down the familiar road leading to school. The air was cool against my skin, carrying that early morning stillness that felt almost peaceful if you ignored what came next. I always tried to ignore it. By the time I reached the school gates, the familiar knot had already formed in my stomach. I locked my bicycle, adjusted my worn bag, and took a slow breath that didn’t really calm me. Then I walked inside. The hallway was already alive with noise. Students grouped together, laughing, talking, living lives that felt far away from mine. I moved between them like a shadow, careful not to brush against anyone, careful not to exist too loudly. That was when I noticed it.The whispers.Not loud enough to be certain, but enough to feel wrong.Enough to make my steps slow without me realizing it. A few heads turned. A few smiles appeared and disappeared too quickly. Something was planned.I just didn’t know what.I reached my classroom door and stopped for a second longer than usual. My fingers hovered over the handle. My chest tightened, warning me not to go in. But I had no choice. I pushed the door open.The moment I stepped inside, everything changed. A bucket tilted above the doorway dropped its contents instantly.Cold, thick liquid crashed over my head.Red paint. It swallowed my vision, slid into my eyes, ran down my face in heavy streams. My uniform was ruined within seconds, soaked and sticking to my skin like it was never meant to be worn again.For a moment, I couldn’t see anything.Then they laughed. It didn’t come all at once. It built slowly, like something growing stronger with every second. Then it filled the room completely.I heard Marcus first.“Look at her,” he said, laughing. “She never learns.” I stood frozen at the entrance, blinking through the burning sting in my eyes, trying to wipe the paint away with shaking hands. It only spread more, making everything worse.My breathing turned uneven.My heartbeat is too loud. Then the room went quiet again. Not because they stopped.Because someone else had arrived.Sharp heels clicked against the floor outside. Each step is slow, deliberate, controlled.Mrs. Vance entered. And I remember, for one foolish second, thinking maybe she would stop it.Maybe she would see.Mrs. Vance stepped into the classroom. Her heels clicked against the floor once,twice, then stopped.Her eyes moved slowly across the room, taking in the chaos like she was observing something unpleasant but normal. Her gaze landed on me last. Just for a second, I thought she would ask what happened.Just for a second, I thought wrong. “Ariana.”My name came out cold. Flat. Like I was already the problem.“What exactly is this mess?” My lips parted, but nothing came out. My throat felt tight, like even my voice had been locked away somewhere I couldn’t reach. Behind her, Marcus leaned back in his chair, smiling like he already knew how this would end.I tried to speak again. “I… I didn’t”.Before I could finish, her hand moved.The slap came fast.The sound cracked through the room like something breaking permanently. My head turned sharply to the side. Heat rushed across my cheek. For a second, I couldn’t feel anything else except the ringing in my ears. The classroom exploded again.Not with shock.With laughter.Mrs. Vance didn’t even look disturbed. She adjusted her posture and pointed at the floor. “Clean it,” she said. “Now.”My fingers curled slowly.I didn’t argue. I already knew what arguing did. It only made things worse.I knelt down. The paint stuck to my skin as I touched the floor, cold and humiliating. My hands trembled while I tried to gather paper towels from the side of the room. Behind me, someone kicked a chair. It scraped loudly across the floor. Then another student knocked over a trash bin. Rubbish spilled out. Food. Paper. Everything scattered like it was part of the game.“Careful,” Marcus said lazily. “She might actually cry this time.”More laughter. It echoed too much. Too long. I kept cleaning.Because there was nothing else I could do.Minutes passed. Or maybe hours. Time always felt strange in moments like this, like the world slowed down just to make it hurt longer. When the bell finally rang, no one stayed behind.One by one, they left.The laughter faded last.Until only silence remained. I stayed on my knees even after the room was empty, scrubbing at the floor until my fingers ached. My reflection barely showed in the polished tiles beneath the paint, broken and distorted. Eventually, a man stepped into the room. Mr. Chen.He looked at the mess, then at me.His expression twisted immediately. “Useless,” he muttered. “Still not done?” I didn’t respond.I couldn’t. “Faster,” he snapped. “Do you think I have all day to watch you play victim?”I lowered my head and kept cleaning.The sun shifted outside the windows slowly, sinking lower and lower until orange light spilled across the empty classroom. By the time I finished, my body felt heavy. Everything hurt in a quiet way.I stood up slowly.The room was clean now.But I wasn’t. When I finally stepped outside, the hallway was empty. The school had already moved on without me, as if nothing had happened at all.I walked to the bike rack under a fading light. My bicycle looked smaller than before. I unlocked it and started riding home.The wind was colder now. It pressed against my wet hair and skin, making the dried paint tighten uncomfortably on my face. Every movement of the pedals sent pain through my legs.Not even a single soul looked my way. By the time I saw my house, the sky had turned dark.It stood tall in front of me, too perfect, too quiet, too far removed from everything I felt inside. A mansion that looked like safety from the outside.But never felt like home.I stopped at the gate for a moment.Then I went inside. And I didn’t know it yet,But tomorrow, the wolves were going to stop playing.