INNOCENCE

★Rihaan's Trauma★

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At the age of eight, Rihaan was too young to understand why his parents had sent him away. Boarding school felt more like punishment than an opportunity. The sprawling, cold stone building loomed before him as his parents waved goodbye, their faces filled with expectation. “You’ll make friends here, Rihaan,” they had said, but deep inside, Rihaan already felt a gnawing emptiness. He was shy, small for his age, and terribly unsure of himself.

The first night in the dormitory was quiet but unsettling. The older boys in the room whispered among themselves, their eyes occasionally flicking toward Rihaan. His tiny bed felt like an island in a hostile sea. The other boys laughed at each other’s jokes, loud and unkind, but no one spoke to him. He stayed silent, holding his stuffed toy tightly under the blanket, pretending not to hear the mocking snickers and remarks tossed his way.

The bullying began almost immediately, as if the older boys had been waiting for someone like Rihaan to appear—a small, defenseless, quiet child they could torment. The next morning, as he walked through the hallways to his class, a boy named Karan, one of the seniors in the dormitory, stood in his path.

“Where do you think you’re going, runt?” Karan sneered, his face twisted into a cruel smirk.

“To class,” Rihaan whispered, his voice barely audible.

“I didn’t say you could go yet,” Karan said, shoving Rihaan back against the wall.

The force of the push sent a sharp pain through Rihaan’s back. He tried to steady himself, but Karan was already yanking his schoolbag off his shoulder. With a malicious grin, Karan dumped the contents of the bag onto the floor—books, pencils, everything.

“Pick it up,” Karan ordered, kicking one of the books across the hallway.

Rihaan’s small hands trembled as he bent down, scrambling to gather his things. His cheeks burned with humiliation. He didn’t dare look up, too afraid to meet the eyes of the other boys who stood watching, laughing.

Days turned into weeks, and the bullying escalated. Rihaan was the smallest in his class, and the other boys took advantage of his vulnerability. It wasn’t just the older boys like Karan anymore; even boys his own age joined in.

During recess, they would corner him by the jungle gym, blocking his way when he tried to escape.

“Where are you going, little baby?” Vikas, one of Karan’s lackeys, said, grabbing Rihaan by his shirt collar.

“I just… I want to go,” Rihaan whimpered, his heart racing in his chest.

“Go where? To cry to your mommy?” Vikas jeered, tightening his grip on Rihaan’s shirt, lifting him off the ground slightly. The other boys laughed, their voices harsh and cutting.

Rihaan’s legs dangled for a moment before Vikas released him with a hard shove, sending him sprawling onto the ground. His knees scraped against the rough dirt, a sharp pain shooting through his legs. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he didn’t let them fall. He knew crying would only make it worse.

“Get up!” another boy demanded, kicking at Rihaan’s side.

Rihaan winced, his small body trembling. He stood up shakily, brushing the dirt off his knees, but the boys weren’t done. One of them grabbed the back of his collar and yanked it so hard that the fabric tore. The group howled with laughter as Rihaan clutched the torn edges of his shirt, trying to hold it together.