Carlton International School has a strict 'No Bully' policy. It was because of a girl named Emilia, who was bullied by her classmates. It was one of those generic stories. Emilia started liking some guy who was supposedly in a relationship with one of the popular girls. The rumors have many colors, from physical and emotional abuse to supernatural touches. What escalated the train of events was the accidental death of Emilia. Even though the school authorities successfully proved that it WAS an accident, the new rule was added to the existing ones.
Some still call it the Emilia effect. The popular girl, her three friends, and the boy in the middle of this whole ordeal were suspended for an uncertain period. Later, they returned, but they had lost their glory. The Emilia effect ruined their reputation in the school, not just for that generation but also in the next generations. So, after twenty years, we still remember the Emilia effect and the ones involved in it.
Due to the Emilia effect, nobody dares to bully others, or even harass others directly anymore. The students nowadays have a better option — a social boycott. Sophie Naval has turned it into a pretty amazing practice. She is often heard of punishing the ones who cross her path with this tool. There are some other methods as well, such as an innocent accident.
Imagine, you are in the washroom and accidentally you have locked yourself. You're trying your best to unlock the door and come out, screaming your lungs out for someone kind enough to help you out, and at that point in time a bucket of dirty water spills over your head. What would you do?
Simple answer.
Nothing.
For two reasons, you should do nothing, or, more precisely, you can do nothing. One, it was an accident that you locked yourself in a toilet. If anything, you are the loser here. Secondly, you have no evidence against anyone. You did not see who dumped the water on you, or who made sure that you were photographed in your dirty stained uniform and that photograph is spread on the school circles.
Needless to say, I choose the simplest and most obvious way to react when I see Lilian coming out of the toilet, dripping dark brown water. The stink shoots up through my nostrils to my brain, almost burning all my senses along with it. I keep my head down while she contains her sobs to herself and walks towards the backyard of the school. She will find a way to get changed and continue with the classes, or maybe leave. I decided that I don't need to bother myself with it.
I lower my head and walk towards the library, my hands still shaking. My fingers clutch the photograph of Aunt Josette, where she gloriously sits beside the lake. I think of Felix and Art and how sweet they sounded just a moment ago. If I was not too occupied with my own thoughts, I'd notice their nice manner and keep that memory in my heart until it turned into a permanent memory. I would even —
The world in front of my eyes spins and then turns upside down. My head feels dizzy, and then I hit the ground. My knees make contact with the stone floor a little too hard, and then I fall further, face first. My mouth lets out a syllable without my permission.
"Ouch!"
A muffled sound of laughter brings me back to my senses. There are few students around me, but I hear the click of a camera somewhere, which means, by halftime everybody in the school would see me in this state. I focus on something that I can control, but I find nothing here.
There was something near my feet. Something hard yet soft, something that made me stumble and fall, and funnily enough that something was not there anymore. I hear a snicker and a voice.
"Oh no, how did you manage to fall, Franny?"
The sweetness in Eric's voice is so fake that it feels like cheap polythene. A couple of girls giggle somewhere. My cheeks burn.
"Are you hurt, Franny?"
I push myself up and look at him. The snicker is still hanging there, with a certain amount of brutality in his eyes that is not discernible unless you are at the receiving end.
Eric keeps that smile intact as he speaks. "Do you need to go to the infirmary? I can take you there."
"N–no," I try to find some strength to make myself audible. "Thank you."
"C'mon, I can't let you stay here like this, can I? Here, take my hand," he says, extending his hand.
"What's all this?"
I say a silent prayer before pushing myself further up. The skin on my knees burns. A gentle hand helps me up. I don't look at the woman. I am too embarrassed, even though I know that she is the last person to poke fun at me.
"Mrs Willis, Franny here had a fall. I was just offering my help."
"That is so very kind of you, Mr. Frensby. I will take it from here."
Mrs Ruchi Willis has known me since my childhood. She has also known about my encounters with near death, my complicated relationship with Aunt Josette, and my meltdown two years ago. Honestly, it baffles me, why she has not made a single comment questioning my sanity yet.
"Are you okay? What's that in your hand?"
"I am fine. Thank you." I finally manage to look at the face of a person without feeling the urge to avert my eyes, and say, "It's just an old photograph."
"Are you still obsessing over your aunt?"