Whims of a Quiet Dreamer

Chapter 7: Back Where It Began

Sithu had settled into her routine with the fourth graders. They were young enough to still enjoy the stories she loved, and she found a strange sense of comfort among them. It was a small relief to find a place where she could fit in, even if only with children. The kids adored her—perhaps because she wasn't like the other teachers, so serious and proper. With her soft voice and gentle demeanor, she connected with them in a way that felt natural.

But the other teachers were different. Sithu remained an outsider. Even though she tried to stay out of the way, there was one person who seemed particularly intent on making her uncomfortable—Mrs. Talbot, the head teacher in her grade. Mrs. Talbot often sighed loudly when Sithu made even the smallest mistake, and when they passed each other in the halls, she barely acknowledged her existence.

One day, Mrs. Talbot called Sithu into her office. "You're being transferred to the eighth grade," she said bluntly. "Starting tomorrow. You'll be assisting there instead."

Sithu's heart dropped. Eighth grade. That was the year everything had gone wrong for her, the year the bullying had escalated so badly that her parents had pulled her out to homeschool her. The memories of cruel pranks and whispered taunts rushed back, wrapping around her like a suffocating fog. It had been the hardest part of her childhood, and now she was being thrown right back into that world.

The next day, Sithu entered the eighth-grade classroom with her stomach in knots. The room was filled with the noisy chatter of restless students, but her attention was drawn to a quiet boy sitting in the back corner, hunched over his desk. His silence stood out in the chaos, and for a moment, he reminded her of herself at that age—withdrawn, alone, trying to become invisible.

As she watched from across the room, a group of boys nearby started whispering and snickering, casting glances at the quiet boy. Sithu's heart sank as she recognized the pattern. Then, without warning, one of the boys stuck a sign on the quiet boy's back. It read: Loser in large, crude letters. The group burst into laughter, but the boy stayed still, his eyes glued to his desk, pretending not to notice.

Sithu felt a rush of anger and sympathy. She had been that kid once, the target of pranks that made her feel small and powerless. Without hesitation, she walked over to the group and spoke firmly. "That's enough. You don't treat people like that."

The boys exchanged glances, clearly unfazed. One of them, with a smug smirk, looked her up and down. "What's your problem, Miss?"

Sithu recognized him—his parents were big donors to the school. The kind of family that expected special treatment. She knew her words might fall on deaf ears, but she couldn't stand by and watch the bullying continue.

Later that afternoon, Sithu was called into the principal's office. She barely had time to sit down before the principal started yelling. "What do you think you're doing, talking to students like that? Do you know who that boy's parents are? They donate a lot to this school, and they're furious!"

Sithu tried to explain. "But they were bullying another student—"

"I don't care what you think you saw!" the principal interrupted, his face red with anger. "You're here to assist, not to cause problems. If this happens again, you're out."

The room fell silent as Sithu stared down at her hands, her pulse racing. She knew there was no point in arguing. As she walked back into the hall, she felt the eyes of the other teachers on her. They didn't need to say anything; their cold, disapproving looks said it all. No one was on her side.

By the time she got home, she felt completely drained. She threw her bag onto the floor and collapsed onto the couch, the weight of the day crashing down on her. Tears began to flow freely, the defeat too much to hold inside any longer.

Jaren called later that evening, his voice full of concern as he tried to console her. "It's not your fault, Sithu. You stood up for that kid. You did the right thing."

But nothing he said made her feel any better. "I don't belong there, Jaren. I don't belong anywhere." Her voice cracked, thick with emotion. Jaren's comforting words felt distant, unable to reach the deep sadness that had settled in her chest.

After they hung up, Sithu curled up on the couch, too tired to even think. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she fell into a heavy sleep.

That's when the dream began.