Vivian sat by the classroom window, staring outside at the small house adjacent to the school wall. Every day, she watched a woman who seemed about her age or a year older, going about her daily chores—cleaning the house, hanging wet clothes. There was something enchanting about the scene, a simple life that seemed worlds away from her own. Vivian would often find herself fading into these daydreams, ignoring the chaos around her.
That day was no different. She was holding her face in her hands, gazing out through the meshed window, watching the woman sweep the roof, creating gusts of dust in the open air. Vivian wanted to shout, "Hey! It's useless to sweep the roof. The dust isn't going anywhere," but instead, she chuckled to herself.
Her amusement was cut short by a sudden, icy sensation. She cried out and stood up, drenched with water. Emily stood there, laughing hysterically. "Hahaha! Look at her, Vivian! Was it warm? How do you feel now? Cold, right? I especially found it for you!"
The entire classroom erupted in laughter, but no one came to help her. Humiliated, Vivian rushed out of the classroom, tears streaming down her face. She hurried to the bathroom, trying to dry herself under the hand dryer.
The bathroom door swung open, and Emily entered, holding a small handkerchief. She approached Vivian, offering it with a mocking smile. "Here, use this."
Vivian jerked her hand away, and Emily's demeanor shifted. "Don't pretend, okay? It was just a little water, just for fun. Here, you can drench me too!"
Emily went to the basin, drenched herself with water, then poured more on her head. She ran her hands through her shoulder-length hair, disheveling it. "Look, it's all good now. See? I've drenched myself too. Okay?" She laughed and left the bathroom.
Vivian stood there, flabbergasted, unable to muster a single word. After a while, she returned to her class and slumped into her seat, hiding her face in her arms. The humiliation burned her cheeks as she tried to disappear from sight.
When the lecture ended, she felt a sharp pull on her hair. She looked up to see Emily's younger sister, yanking her hair with all her might. Vivian cried out in pain, trying to free herself, but the girl splashed water on her face and pulled her closer. "Don't you dare mess with my sister! Did you think you could get away with it after drenching her?" She pushed Vivian, causing her to hit her head on the window rail. Tears filled Vivian's eyes, not from pain, but from the unexpected humiliation.
The next day, Vivian didn't go to school. She craved solitude, a refuge from the relentless torment. But peace was a distant dream even at home. Her room door was banging continuously since early morning.
"What's that bitch doing, closing the door behind her? I pay the bills!" Her father's voice, thick with anger, echoed through the house. Vivian tried to block it out, burying her head under a pillow. But then she heard her mother's painful cry, a sound that pierced through her defenses and forced her to act.
Heart pounding, she threw open her door. Her father was already there, his face red with rage. He lunged at her, his rough hands closing around her neck, shaking her violently. "Do you think I'm a joke? What were you doing in there? Whats in there?" He was spitting on her face as he shouted.
Vivian was paralyzed, her voice caught in her throat. Tears welling up in her eyes, but before she could utter a word, he slapped her hard across the face. The impact was so fierce that it left his fingers imprinted on her pale skin and sent her flying onto the couch.
Dazed and in pain, she struggled to get up. But her father was relentless. He rushed at her again, fists clenched, ready to strike. This time, her mother intervened, throwing herself between them. She clung to his legs, trying to hold him back. "Stop it! Leave her alone!" she screamed, desperation in her voice.
Her father was momentarily thrown off balance, but his rage only grew. He grabbed his wife's hair, yanking her away from his legs, dragging her across the floor. "You want to protect her? I'll deal with you first!" He began hitting her with whatever he could find—an ashtray, flower vase, a remote control, his fists throwing her here and there.
Vivian watched in horror, her body trembling. She slipped off the couch, slouched over, trying to muster the strength to move. Her vision blurred with tears as she saw her mother being brutalized.
Her younger brother stood on the stairs above, watching everything with wide, terrified eyes. He was frozen, unable to move or speak, his small frame trembling.
"DAD!!! Stop it! STOP !" Vivian finally found her voice, but it was barely more than a whisper. She crawled towards her mother, reaching out a trembling hand.
Her father's wrath turned back to her. He kicked her away, sending her sprawling onto the floor. "YOU!!!1 ITS BECAUSE OF YOUUUU… NOW Stay out of this, NOW SEE WHAT YOU HAVE DONE!" he bellowed, his voice a thunderous roar.
Vivian's head throbbed from where it had hit the floor, her vision swimming. She struggled to breathe, her chest tight with fear and pain. Her mother lay in a corner, a bloody mess, her cries reduced to weak whimpers.
Her father, exhausted from his tirade, staggered back, panting heavily.
"Get out of my sight," he muttered, his voice hoarse,
" like mother like daughter! bitches. Want to kill me ...they know I am sick and still they try to mess with me" saying this he threw another punch on his wife that Vivan took on her back…
As the minutes passed, her father stumbled away, disappearing into another part of the house. The silence that followed was heavy, oppressive. Vivian's mother clung to her, whispering, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, my love I couldn't protect you"
Vivian gently lifting her head. But unable to say anything," she simply tried to force a smile, tears streaming down her face. She glanced up at her brother, still standing on the stairs.
"It's not your fault," Vivian whispered back to her mother, her own voice choked with emotion. She felt a mix of anger, sorrow, and helplessness, a storm of feelings she couldn't quite control.