Whims of a Quiet Dreamer

Chapter 6: First Day, Old Shadows

Sithu stared at herself in the mirror, adjusting the stiff blouse she had reluctantly chosen for her first day at the school. The outfit felt foreign on her skin, the professional, neutral tones an uncomfortable contrast to the whimsical clothes she usually wore—bright patterns and fairy tale accessories that made her feel like herself. But the school had a dress code, and she had no choice but to follow it. She sighed, tugging at the collar. This wasn't her.

The walk to the train station was filled with nerves. Her heart raced as the city unfolded around her, the quiet of the early morning no comfort to the anxious thoughts swirling in her head. As the train clattered down the tracks, she tried to lose herself in the familiar scenery outside the window, but all she could think about was the school waiting for her.

When she finally stepped through the gates, memories rushed in like an unwanted flood. The school's wide hallways, the echoing voices, the buzz of children—it was all too familiar. She was transported back to her own school days, days she had long tried to forget.

Her steps faltered as she remembered the bullying that had shaped so much of her childhood. It wasn't the teasing kind that children outgrew, but the subtle, mean-spirited tricks that always left her feeling like an outsider. There was the time they'd hidden her books, laughing as she searched every corner of the classroom for them, too confused to understand why anyone would do that. Or the time they'd stuck a note on her back, calling her "the alien" because of her odd, daydreaming ways.

But one memory stood out more than the rest. It was the day they had pulled their biggest prank on her, one she still couldn't fully grasp. It was her birthday, and she had brought cupcakes for the class, hoping, for once, to feel included. Instead, the other kids pretended to be her friends for the day—laughing, playing, and being nice—until the final bell rang. That's when they told her it was all a joke. Her stomach had dropped, the cupcakes she'd so carefully made now a bitter reminder of how cruel children could be. She hadn't cried in front of them. She had never cried at school.

It wasn't long after that her parents pulled her out to homeschool. They couldn't bear seeing her come home every day, quiet and withdrawn, unable to fit into the world around her.

Though she often dreamed of returning to childhood, the idea of school was never part of that fantasy. She had long accepted that part of her past as something she would rather leave behind. And now here she was, stepping into it again, the weight of those memories hanging over her like a shadow.

Sithu swallowed hard as she entered the classroom where she would assist. The students were already settled, bright-eyed and full of energy. Grade 4, children around nine years old—it was the perfect age for her. Despite her nerves, something about them made her feel at ease. She smiled gently as she introduced herself, and soon, she found herself fitting in with the kids in a way that felt natural. They didn't judge her. They asked simple questions, ones she could answer with ease, and they laughed at her whimsical references to dragons and knights. With them, it was as if she had stepped into a small world of her own.

But outside of the classroom, things were different.

During lunch, she found herself cornered, just like in her school days. The other teachers, much like her childhood peers, seemed to sense her discomfort. Their conversations hummed around her, about lesson plans, their personal lives, weekend plans—topics she had no way of relating to. When she tried to join in, her attempts were met with polite smiles but nothing more. It was as though she was invisible, a shadow at the edge of their circle.

She picked at her lunch, her thoughts spinning. She hadn't felt this out of place in years. The feeling was so familiar, it was like stepping back into her thirteen-year-old self—the one who didn't get the jokes, who didn't understand the pranks, who simply didn't belong.

By the end of the day, Sithu was exhausted. Not from the work, but from the emotional strain. Her interactions with the children had been the only bright spot, but the memories of her own school days lingered, sour and unshakable. She had wanted to feel like a child again, but not like this. Not this part of childhood.

As she left the school, walking slowly back to the train station, she felt that familiar ache in her chest. The world of adults and expectations had always been hard for her to navigate, but the world of children wasn't as simple as she had once thought either.

For the first time, she wondered if there really was a place where she fit in, or if she was destined to always feel like an outsider, no matter where she went.