"Within the depths of our souls, we battle the fiercest demons, those born of our fears, doubts, and insecurities. Yet, it is in facing these inner beasts that we find the strength to rise, the courage to overcome, and the power to transform ourselves into warriors of resilience and self-discovery." - Unknown

★★★★★

It was never the most common option for me to believe in fairy tales. I was never meant for it. As I stood outside, the sky darkening above, my heart raced with a familiar mixture of anxiety and fear. It was a feeling I had known all too well in the past.

Memories flooded my mind, reminding me of the worst days of my life. The days when I was subjected to insults, name-calling, and physical abuse. The days when they pushed me to the ground, beat me, and made my existence a living nightmare.

Aidan stood before me, his presence emanating an aura of danger. "You should have listened to me, why didn't you?" His voice, usually harsh and unforgiving, was strangely calm. We stood on the same ground where we had been earlier in the day.

"I was scared," I replied, my voice filled with vulnerability. His hands found their way to my shoulders, and a shiver ran down my spine. I took a shallow breath, feeling sick to my stomach as he touched me.

"You should be," he uttered, his words carrying a weight I couldn't fully comprehend. I looked up at him, meeting his eyes, desperately seeking answers.

"Why?" I questioned silently, my words left unspoken.

"What exactly did you see this morning?" Aidan asked, his tone reverting to its usual harshness. It was a question meant for me to answer but remain unheard.

"I did not see anything. I swear," I asserted, the truth ringing through my words. I hadn't seen much, just some strange figures. Nothing more. I attempted to move away, but he placed his hands on either side of the wall, effectively trapping me. We were inches apart now, and the acrid smell of smoke mingled with his breath. I despised it. It reminded me too much of my past.

"Let. Me. Go. I already told you I didn't see anything. What else do you want from me? What is all this about?" I demanded, my voice laced with frustration and anger. I blamed him for bringing this dark energy with him. And in that moment, I didn't regret letting my emotions show. He had it coming.

Aidan seemed taken aback, and for a brief moment, doubt flickered in his eyes. Without saying another word, he took a few steps back, turned around, and walked away. He simply left.

I stood there, tears welling up in my eyes, my emotions in turmoil. Minutes turned into hours, yet I remained rooted to the spot. The longer I stayed on that ground, the more I longed for the comfort of my family.

My heart felt shattered, and doubt began to creep in. I questioned my own strength and resilience. All I wanted was to go back to my room.

It was only the second day of college, and already the darkness and negativity were seeping into my life. The presence of malevolence was palpable, and Aidan's behavior was becoming unbearable. Sooner or later, I knew I would reach my breaking point.

I feared that the cycle of pain would begin again. Aidan was no different from the tormentors of my past. He might even be worse. It was too soon to judge him, but I had encountered his kind before. I had seen my share of suffering for over a decade.

My mind wandered back to where it all began—the bullying in middle school. I had recently moved back to my third foster home, where they finally allowed me to join a communal school. I made friends with a girl, and we grew close. But soon, she changed. She joined a different group, and together they began to bully me. She mocked me alongside them, but on the bus ride home, when they were gone, she would claim to be my friend. I never understood why they did that to me. I didn't know what had caused her behavior to change, but we never spoke again.

They called me names, labeled me an outsider, and made fun of my clothes, my family's problems, my accent, and my foster home. It didn't stop at verbal abuse; they physically assaulted me, pulling my hair and even slamming my head into the school bus window.

I never confided in anyone about the torment I endured. I was too scared. I believed that if I spoke up, the situation would only worsen. I tried to tell my foster parents, but they always seemed preoccupied with their own problems. They were always overwhelmed and exhausted, tried their best to maintain order. But beneath their forced smiles and hollow promises, their weariness was palpable. They, too, were victims of a system that failed to provide the support and resources necessary to nurture the broken spirits under their care.

Like me. Like may of us.

I was just a background noise for them.

The bullies scrutinized every aspect of my life, targeting any vulnerability they could find. It was especially difficult for me because I had no real friends, and gradually, I became more withdrawn and emotionally guarded.

Moving away from my past was a significant change, and I embraced it because I yearned for a fresh start. All I wanted was to make friends and live a normal life.

I was struggling for last two years alone. I ran away after the incident that changed my life.

I wanted to start fresh. I worked hard to save up for college, to pay for my dorm room, I did triple shifts just to get into the UNI.

But now, it seemed like an elusive dream, slipping further away from my grasp.

I rose from the ground, my body protested the prolonged stillness, sending waves of soreness through my weary legs. The weight of my decision to skip an entire day of college bore down on me, my conscience laden with a mixture of regret and apprehension. With a flicker of panic, I glanced at my wristwatch, only to be confronted by the harsh reality of time slipping away.

A sudden realization jolted me. I had a job, a responsibility that couldn't be brushed aside. I needed to find my way there, and there was no one else to rely on but myself. Consulting my phone for guidance, I quickly accessed the directions to the nearest bus stop, my heart pounding with urgency.

The bus stop, a mere 15-minute walk away, held the promise of transportation and the gateway to fulfilling my obligations. With a determined spirit, I set off, each step echoing with a resolute purpose. Fatigue washed over me, accompanied by a gnawing hunger. I sat on the bench, scrolling through my phone to double-check the bus number. Once satisfied, I returned it to my jeans pocket—correction, Kate's jeans pocket. I would make sure to return her clothes tomorrow after washing them.

As I waited, the clouds grew darker, and soon, rain began to pour down.

"Can I categorize this as one of the worst days?" I grumbled to myself. Apart from me, there was an old lady sitting on the next bench. She smiled when she noticed my gaze and I returned the gesture.

Despite the threatening rain, I could hear the distant hum of motorcycle tires on the road. The sound grew closer until the bike came to a stop right in front of me, its rider directing his attention toward me.

Clad in a leather jacket and a protective helmet, he said, almost inaudibly, "Hop on."

I didn't react immediately.

"Why do you always want me to repeat myself?" His voice grew louder, cutting through the sound of raindrops hitting the shelter's roof. And then I recognized it—it was Aidan.

Fixing my eyes on the road, waiting for the bus that should arrive soon, I pretended not to notice his presence.

Unfazed, Aidan dismounted the bike and sat beside me on the bench. Internally groaning, I shifted as far away from him as possible. His helmet remained on until he finally decided to remove it.

What does he want now?

He wore an expression devoid of emotion as I stole a glance at him.

"If you're waiting for the bus, it's going to take longer than you expect," he informed me, his words laced with exasperation.

"I'll wait," I replied, my impatience seeping into my voice as I glanced at the road once more.

"Why be so stubborn? This is the outskirts, buses aren't known for their punctuality. And for God's sake, it's raining," Aidan's voice grew even louder.

"Why are you suddenly trying to help me?" I questioned.

We fell into a silence that stretched for several minutes, as more clouds gathered in the sky. It was getting increasingly late.

"I made a mistake, okay? You can put it that way," Aidan finally spoke, his voice tinged with resignation. "And here I am, offering to help you."

"I don't need your help," I said, a car pulling up in front of me. A young man waved, and the old lady who had overheard our bickering quickly took the passenger seat before they drove away.

Now, we were alone. Depending on the circumstances, my mind began calculating the risk of accepting Aidan's help. I wanted to call the cafe owner to let him know I might be late, but him being grumpy and moody all the time. Not a good option. I may loose my job.

"Stop being stubborn. I'm only being generous today; it won't happen again, I can promise you that," Aidan stated, standing up from the bench.

"You don't even know where I am heading. What if I am going in the opposite direction from where you're headed?" I posed a genuine question. Aidan was trying to help, but I couldn't burden anyone else.

"I do," he replied, leaving me with a confused expression.

Was he agreeing to help, or had he decided to abandon me? If he left now, I would be all alone. Who knew when this so-called bus would arrive?

As Aidan started walking toward his bike, I reluctantly said, "Okay," causing him to halt in his tracks.

Did he not expect me to accept his help? Well, it was done now.

Standing near his bike, I felt a surge of nervousness surpassing any I had felt on the ground. 

"Here, put this on," Aidan handed me the helmet, and I obliged, placing it over my head. I have never been on bike rides before, and that too on a sports bike. I have my fare share of scooter rides, but this was an entirely different experience.

Aidan initially rode the bike slowly, perhaps to help me acclimate. I held onto his shoulder, gripping tightly to avoid falling. I directed him, guiding him through the turns, though it was challenging to speak over the heavy rainfall. Eventually, we arrived in front of the cafe.

I removed the helmet and handed it back to Aidan. He did the same, and I couldn't pinpoint the exact expression on his face—shock, confusion, or perhaps something else entirely. All I wanted to do was say a simple thank you and retreat into the shelter, drenched from head to toe.

"You work here?" he asked, to which I nodded.

"Why?" I inquired, silently praying that he would keep his answers brief so I could escape.

"Because..." Aidan paused for an extended moment before continuing, "I live there." He pointed to the house opposite side of the lane.

I stood frozen in place, speechless. No matter what had transpired earlier in the day, what I had witnessed, what they had said, this moment would be etched in my memory forever.

The boy who frightened me the most lives near by where I work.

★★★★★

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