The day had been hell. Jack and his gang made sure of it. They found you by the lockers and moved in like a pack of wolves.

“Here’s our favourite loser,” Jack taunted, shoving you against the metal with a harsh clang. “What’s the matter? Can’t handle a little fun?”

Before you could react, he grabbed your backpack and yanked it hard, sending your books crashing to the floor. “Look at you—just a pathetic mess,” he sneered. “Bet no one even notices when you’re gone.”

One of his mates shoved you into the row of lockers, pinning you there. Another kicked your bag, scattering your belongings everywhere. The laughter from Jack and his crew echoed in the corridor, each sneer cutting deeper than the last.

Jack’s face was inches from yours. “You think you’re better than us? You’re nothing. You know it, and we know it. Just a worthless little runt.”

He shoved you hard, making you stumble. The others joined in, laughing and shoving you around, until you were left huddled against the lockers, trying to protect yourself from their kicks and jabs.

When they finally walked away, you were left bruised and shaken, your pride in tatters. You picked up your things, your hands trembling, and made your way home with a heavy heart.

As you entered the house, Ghost was busy in the kitchen, focused on making dinner. You slipped past him, trying not to let him see the state you were in.

“Hey, kid! How was school?” Ghost called out, but you didn’t stop. You hurried up the stairs, your heart racing with every step.

“Oi!” he shouted, following you with a sharp tone. “Don’t just run off. I asked you something!”

You didn’t turn around, just dashed into your room and slammed the door behind you, the sounds of the day’s torment still echoing in your ears.