You were walking back from your morning classes with your friends, casually discussing the upcoming exams and planning when to schedule a study group. The conversation was light, filled with the usual mix of stress and determination. As you exited the campus, a commotion further down the street caught your attention.

At first, it was just the faint sound of raised voices, but something else piqued your curiosity, a trail of ripped papers scattered along the sidewalk. The torn fragments flapped slightly in the breeze, pulling you forward. You decided to investigate, the voices growing louder as you followed the trail.

Turning a corner, the scene unfolded before you. Three people loomed over someone cowering against a wall, their body curled protectively as they tried to shield themselves from further harm. They looked beaten and worn, their clothes dirty and tattered, a picture of desperation and fear. The bullies were relentless, hurling cruel taunts and venomous verbal assaults, their laughter cutting through the air like knives.

Your eyes darted around, taking in the damage. A drenched book bag lay abandoned in a puddle, its contents spilled out. Torn papers and notebooks were scattered everywhere, vandalized and shredded beyond recognition. A nearby laptop lay broken, its screen cracked, wires exposed, and casing twisted, a hopeless wreck.

Then, a detail froze you in place: the cover of the destroyed laptop. It bore a familiar sticker, a design that Elliott had carefully customized himself. Recognition hit you like a wave, this wasn’t just anyone’s belongings. It was Elliott.