The night was beautiful, as always, but the beauty never reached our house.
Mom and Dad were shouting again, their voices slicing through the quiet of the evening like knives. I hugged my little brother, Adhi, tightly, trying to shield him from the storm. His small hand fit perfectly in mine, but it couldn't stop the fear pressing down on my chest.
"Don't be scared, sis… I'm here with you," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the shouting. I forced a smile for him, though my hands were trembling. I wished I could be strong, but I felt so small, so helpless.
Their fighting went on for hours, words thrown like stones, some landing on us even if unintentionally. I learned early that silence was safer than speaking. So we stayed in our room, holding onto each other, pretending we weren't there. The night dragged on, endless and heavy, until exhaustion finally claimed our parents' anger for a while.
When the shouting finally faded, Adhi and I crept upstairs, careful not to wake anyone. "One day," I whispered to myself, "one day it'll be different." But I didn't really believe it. Not yet.
Time moved forward, and soon I was starting high school. A fresh start, I told myself. Maybe at school, I could be someone else — someone who wasn't always scared, someone who could laugh without hiding tears behind it.
The first day was harder than I expected. I adjusted my bag, took a deep breath, and forced a smile as I walked through the school gates. Kids were chatting and laughing, and I felt… nothing. I laughed when I was supposed to, smiled when others smiled, but inside, my heart was still heavy.
"Hey, are you new here?" a bright voice asked. I turned and saw a girl my age, her eyes kind, her smile genuine.
"Yes… I'm Aruna," I said, returning her smile.
"I'm Inisha. Don't worry — I'll show you around," she said, linking her arm with mine. Somehow, just her presence made the day feel a little less suffocating. For the first time, I felt a spark of hope. Maybe I wasn't completely alone.
But not everything was easy. The moment I stepped into the classroom, I felt eyes on me — judging, whispering. "Look at her, thinking she belongs here," one girl muttered, giggling with her friends. They called my names, mocked the way I spoke, laughed at my quietness. Every insult landed like a hammer blow, but I forced my shoulders back and smiled. I couldn't let them see how much it hurt. Not today.
Then, during lunch, I noticed him. Rivan. My heart skipped a beat. He wasn't like the others — he smiled at me, not mocking, not distant, just… warm. But even then, I felt the familiar ache of doubt. Could someone like him ever notice someone like me? Or was it just a fleeting glance?
Inisha noticed my distraction and nudged me. "He's cute, isn't he?" she whispered. I blushed, quickly looking away. "Shh… don't stare too much," she teased softly. Her light-heartedness made me forget, even if only for a moment, the heaviness I carried from home.
At the end of the day, as I walked back home, the world seemed lighter for a little while. I laughed at something Inisha said, my voice bright and cheerful. People passing by would have thought I was happy — that I had no worries. But the truth, buried deep inside me, was different. The fear from home, the pain of my parents' fights, the loneliness — it all followed me, silent and unyielding.
Adhi ran to the door when he saw me. "How was school, sis?" he asked, eyes wide with curiosity. I knelt to hug him, hiding my exhaustion behind a smile. "It was… okay," I said. Okay. That was all I could manage for now.
Later, after dinner, I sat by the window, looking at the stars. They were beautiful, as always. And for a brief moment, I allowed myself to hope. Maybe tomorrow would be better. Maybe, somehow, I could find a little light in the shadows of my life.
But even in that moment of fragile hope, I knew one thing: the world outside might be cruel, the people at school might laugh, but I had to survive. For Adhi. For me. For the tiny spark of happiness that dared to exist even in the darkest nights.