Threads of Resilience

Chapter Two: The Unseen Guardian

The sun had barely risen, casting dim, pale light through the grimy windows of the orphanage. In the courtyard, Rudrakansh sat alone on a worn-out bench, clutching his small teddy bear . He tried to stay invisible, hoping the older boys wouldn’t notice him. But that hope shattered as three boys, much taller and rougher than him, spotted him sitting by himself.

“Well, look who we have here,” sneered one of the boys, Rakesh, his mouth curling into a cruel smile. “The little prince of the orphanage, holding his little teddy.”

Rudrakansh’s grip on the bear tightened, his heart pounding as he fought the urge to run. At that moment he was thinking if only his parents were there he wouldn't be here— suffering and getting bullied.

“What’s wrong, Rudra? Missing your rich mommy and daddy?” mocked another boy, Aman. He snatched the teddy bear out of Rudrakansh’s hands, holding it high above his head. “Think they’re gonna come and save you?”

“Give it back!” Rudrakansh shouted, his small voice wavering with desperation. He jumped up, reaching for his bear, but the boys laughed, pushing him back down onto the ground.

Rakesh stepped forward, shoving Rudrakansh back as he tried to stand. “You think you’re better than us? Just because you had rich parents?” He glared down at him. “You’re nothing now. Just another orphan.”

The harsh words stung, each one driving deeper into the wound of his loss. The boys started to shove him around, laughing as he stumbled, barely able to keep his balance.  Rudrakansh’s gaze drifted toward the hallway, where Seema stood watching with a smirk of amusement on her face.

“Seema ma’am!” Rudrakansh called out, his voice a desperate plea. “Please, help me!”

But Seema merely folded her arms, she met his gaze and smirked, then turned and walked away, leaving him alone with his tormentors.

He realized in that moment that he was utterly alone—that no one in this place would care if he was hurt, if he cried, or if he fought back. The world felt darker, more hostile, as the boys continued to shove him around, laughing at his helplessness.

Just when it seemed like the bullying would never stop, a voice cut through the cruel laughter.

“Leave him alone!” The voice was firm and confident, a surprising contrast to the timid murmurs of the other children.

Rudrakansh looked up, his tear-filled eyes landing on a girl around ten years old. She had a fierce look in her hazel green eyes, wearing a yellow floral frock, slightly tattered and with one missing sleeve. Without hesitating, she walked up to the boys.

“Who do you think you are?” Rakesh sneered, but there was a hint of hesitation in his voice.

“Back off, or I’ll tell the officer about all the things you’ve been doing when he will come.” the girl said, crossing her arms as she stared Rakesh. There was a moment of silence before the boys exchanged glances, with a grunt, Rakesh shoved the teddy bear back into Rudrakansh’s hands.

“Not worth it,” he muttered, signaling for the others to follow him as they slunk away, casting scowls in the girl’s direction.

Once the bullies were gone, she turned to Rudrakansh, her stern expression softening as she knelt beside him. “Are you alright?”

Rudrakansh nodded slowly, his small hands clutching the teddy bear. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice trembling.

She offered him a reassuring smile. “I’m Meera,” she introduced herself, reaching out her hand. “I saw what they were doing, and it didn’t seem fair.”

For the first time since he’d arrived at the orphanage, Rudrakansh felt a glimmer of hope. He took her hand, holding onto it like a lifeline. “I’m Rudrakansh,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

“Well, Rudrakansh, you’re not alone,” Meera said softly. “You don’t have to face them on your own, you can come to me, just think of me as your didi.”

Her words brought an unexpected comfort, easing the ache of loneliness that had wrapped itself around his heart. He nodded, feeling a warmth he hadn’t felt since his parents’ passing. He felt how it is like to have an elder sister.