FORGING A NEW DESTINY

Hey, I'm Nikki. Yeah, my name sounds like something out of a kids' TV show—especially because my brothers are Vicky and Mickey. Growing up as the middle child, you'd think I’d have a solid bond with them, but nah, I was more like the third wheel.

Vicky and Mickey were tight, always doing everything together. It was like they had their own secret club, and I wasn't on the guest list. I'd try to join in, but they'd just give me that "Oh, it's the middle kid” kinda look and keep doing their thing.

One time, I saw them building a massive pillow fort, and I got all excited. But when I asked if I could join, they told me it was for "brothers only." Wait, what? I thought I was a brother! Turns out, I was more like the distant cousin.

So, I stuck with my mom. She was the only one who really got me. She'd always say, "Nikki, you're special," which was nice, but I still wished my brothers would see me as more than just the awkward kid stuck in the middle.

My mom, though—she's the best. She's always loved me the most, and I love her back. My dad is friendly and cool, but he's busy with work a lot, my brothers are closer to him than I am. In our family, we're all good kids, no big troublemakers, but Vicky and Mickey just don't include me. They share stuff, trade things, hang out together, but I never get an invite. I tried to ask them why they were like this, but I never had the guts to really confront them. So I kept quiet, just the silent kid who didn't have a lot of friends.

A day before my 14th birthday, everything went to hell. My mom found out my dad was having an affair. It hit her hard, and she broke down. She left her family to be with my dad—they used to be so in love. But after the truth came out, they got divorced. My mom wanted all three of us to stay with her, but my brothers said no. They knew about the affair and liked their new stepmom, plus they were already closer to Dad.

That was the first time I fought with my brothers in a long time. I told them they didn't deserve Mom because she was so good, always there for us. They shot back that she only loved me and not them, but that's not true. She took care of me because they ignored me and sometimes bullied me. But even then, she'd tell me they weren't bad people, that they were my brothers, so I should just understand and forgive them.

So I stayed quiet, even when I was angry or hurt, because I didn't want to make things worse. But now, my brothers were blaming Mom for everything, and they didn't even see what she had to go through. It made me want to scream, but I just couldn't. I didn't know how to deal with all of it. I felt like I was on my own, but at least I had my mom. I just wished my brothers could see things from my point of view.

After everything went down, my mom stayed with a friend for a while. She got custody of me, but we couldn't live at her friend's place forever. She was thinking about reconnecting with her family after 20 years, so she reached out, only to find out that her dad had died five years ago. Her mom was living in France with my mom's brother, and the worst part? My grandpa said that all his property were to her brother because they were upset to the fact that my mom left them for my dad.

When my mom found out, she was devastated. She felt like she'd been written out of her own family’s history. But her brother turned out to be a really good guy. He told her it wasn't fair that she didn't get anything, so he gave her the old house where she grew up and some cash. It wasn’t just a little bit of cash, either—it was enough to help us get by for at least a year, even without a job.

That’s when my mom started to realize how much her family really loved her. She felt terrible, like she'd thrown it all away for my dad, who ended up cheating on her. She broke down crying on the phone with her brother, and he tried to console her, saying they still loved her. He even asked if she wanted to talk to their mom, but she said no. She felt too guilty, and maybe a little mad at herself, too. It was like she had this mix of regret and anger, and she didn’t know how to deal with it.

I didn't know what to do to help her. It was just me and my mom now, and it felt like we were starting over from scratch. But at least her brother gave us a place to stay, and we had some money to get by. I just hoped that maybe one day she'd be able to forgive herself and reconnect with her family. I think she needed it, even if she couldn't see it yet. It was like she was trapped in this storm of emotions, and I didn't know how to help her find her way out.

We moved into my mom's old house, and it was massive. I didn't realize she'd grown up in a place like this; it was way bigger than where we'd been living before. Mom was quick to start looking for a job, but it was tough since she'd been out of work for so long. She hadn't worked much, really. After college, she married my dad and became a full-time mom. Eventually, she got a part-time gig at a bakery thanks to a friend, and she started learning to bake like a pro. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

Over the next year, things started to settle down. Mom stopped crying over my dad, and she got really into her work. As she learned more, she got promoted to manage the bakery, which was pretty cool. I tried to help out as much as I could, doing chores and getting good grades. I even got accepted into the best high school in town on a scholarship, which made her super happy. Our lives were getting back on track.

As for my dad and brothers, I had no idea what was going on with them. We never texted, called, or anything. It was like we were living in different worlds now. It didn't bother me much, but I sometimes wondered what they were up to. Maybe they were better off without us.

One day, my mom's brother—my uncle—came to visit. He was a really nice guy, much younger than Mom. He told her she didn’t have to work so hard, that he could cover my college and school fees if needed. But my mom was proud to say I got into a prestigious school on my own. He was impressed and started talking about his family. He married a French woman and had two kids, a boy and a girl. He'd started a successful business and was doing really well.

Before he left, he brought up their mom—my grandmother—and said she really missed my mom. He asked her to visit, but Mom said she needed some time to get mentally ready. I think she was still dealing with everything that had happened. It made sense, but it was nice to see her finally reconnecting with her brother, and I hoped she’d find the strength to reconnect with the rest of the family soon.

Ava. I really like her. I mean, I wish I had the guts to ask her out, but I don't want to mess up what we have. She's been there for me through a lot, like when my parents divorced and when my brothers just ignored me. She's the kind of friend who doesn't need to say much, but you know she's listening. She was with me all through elementary and up until 9th grade, but now we go to different schools. I got into this high school, and she didn't, which sucks because I'd love to see her more often.

In school, I'm not really the popular guy. I'm a pretty good student, always getting decent grades, but I don't have a ton of friends. There's John, though. We became friends in the first year of high school, and even though he's a social butterfly, he's also really smart and works hard. He's usually second in class, right behind me, but he's not competitive about it. John knows everyone, and thanks to him, I got to meet a few more people. It's kind of cool hanging out with him because he's got this way of making you feel like you belong.

John and I aren't best friends or anything—we've only known each other for a year—but he's the closest friend I have at school. We talk about all sorts of stuff, even personal things, which I don't usually share with just anyone. He's got this laid-back vibe that makes it easy to open up.

But when it comes to real friends, it's Ava and John. Ava's got this special place because she was there during some of the toughest times, and she's still the first person I think of when I need someone to talk to. John's the one who makes school a bit more fun, with his endless jokes and his knack for getting to know everyone.

So yeah, if someone asks who my friends are, it's those two. I wish I could hang out with Ava more often, but even if I don't, it's cool knowing that she's there. And having John around makes school a lot less lonely.

Another year passed, and I was now in my second year of high school. I thought it would be just another ordinary year, but it wasn't. John, who I thought was my best friend, started to drift away, hanging out with me less and less. At first, I didn't really notice. But as I looked back, I realized he was hardly talking to me anymore.

One day, in the middle of chemistry class, I was struggling to understand a particularly tricky concept. I was alone in the classroom during lunch break, trying to make sense of the material, when someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned to see one of my classmates with a strange expression on her face. She asked if I had gone to lunch, and I said I hadn't.

That's when I found out that Anna, one of the girls in our class, had lost something very important to her—her late grandmother's pendant. She was crying, and everyone seemed tense. Then, out of nowhere, our class teacher looked at me and said, "If you have it, just give it back. We won't tell anyone." I was shocked. They thought I took it. I felt a wave of anger and confusion. How could they suspect me?

I told them I didn't take anything and even offered to let them search my bag. They went through it, but the pendant wasn't there. I thought it was over, but then they insisted on checking my locker. Again, nothing. I thought it would end there, but someone mentioned checking my gym locker. By this point, I was furious, but I had nothing to hide, so I told them to go ahead.

When they opened the gym locker, there it was—the pendant. I felt my heart drop. It didn't make any sense. I knew I hadn't taken it, but there it was, right where everyone could see. I felt betrayed, cornered, and I had no idea how to prove my innocence. It was like the whole world had turned against me, and I was completely along.

I spent hours in the principal's office, standing there like a criminal. My class teacher was ranting about how I should be suspended, how my scholarship should be revoked. She kept glaring at me like I was some kind of delinquent, while Anna stood in the corner, eyes red from crying. The principal looked tired and surprised, but not in a good way. She was staring at me like I was a stranger, like I'd betrayed everyone.

The principal told Anna and me to step outside. While we waited, Anna started talking, her voice laced with sarcasm. She brought up my family's issues, reminding me how my dad left my mom for his new wife, leaving us with nothing. It stung, and it hurt even more knowing that she'd heard all this from somewhere else. She kept going, saying things that were way out of line, and I just stood there, my fists clenched, feeling the anger and heartbreak mix into a boiling rage.

Then we got called back inside, and I knew I had to explain myself. I asked Anna to come in with me. I started by asking her when she lost the pendant. She said it was during lunch, but she didn't really know when she first noticed it was gone. I asked if she had worn it when she left the classroom, but she wasn't sure. I told the principal that there were security cameras outside the gym and in the hallway near our classroom. If they checked them, they'd see I never went near the gym that day.

My class teacher wasn't buying it. She said I could've stolen the pendant the day before and hid it in the gym locker. It was absurd, but she seemed convinced. The principal gave the order to check the cameras, and it wasn't long before the truth came out. There was only one person from our class who went to the gym that day—John. My so-called best friend.

The shock hit me like a ton of bricks. John had set me up. The principal asked Anna and me to step outside again, and as we stood there, Anna started crying. She apologized, saying she didn't mean what she said earlier. I replied coldly, "But you already did." She looked terrified. It was like the roles had flipped, and now she was the one who felt the guilt and fear.

John showed up a few minutes later, looking pale. The principal called him in, and we could hear the murmur of voices, but not what they were saying. When John came out, he was crying, saying he was sorry, that he was jealous because I was always first in class, and he could never beat me. He said he never meant to hurt me, but that didn't make it okay. The principal was ready to let him drop out of school to keep things quiet, but I stopped her. I told her that if they didn't clear my name with everyone, I'd still be seen as the thief.

I asked for an apology from my class teacher in front of everyone. She looked like she was about to burst with anger, but she didn't have a choice. The principal seemed shocked that I was speaking up like this. I was always the sweet kid, but that day, something had changed in me. I was done being quiet and polite.

Everything was cleared up, but I didn't feel like going back to class. I called my mom to pick me up and went home. The next day, I returned to school, but both Anna and John were absent. The air felt thick with the unresolved tension, and I knew that despite what had happened in the principal's office, the story wasn't over. Not yet.

From the moment I walked into school this morning, I knew something was wrong. Everyone was avoiding me, like I had some kind of disease they didn't want to catch. It was like I was invisible, but not in a good way. Our last period before lunch was PET, and we were playing football. I'm not great at sports, but I can hold my own. But today was different. As soon as I got on the field, some of the guys said if I was on their team, they wouldn't play. I ended up sitting on the bench for what felt like forever.

Finally, one of the players got hurt, and they needed a sub. I thought maybe I’d get a fair shot, but I was wrong. The minute I stepped onto the field, it was like they had a target on my back. They started hitting me with the ball, pulling me down, and shoving me around. I tried to keep it together, but I could feel my emotions bubbling up, and I knew I was about to crack. It was humiliating. By the time the game was over, I felt like I’d been in a fight.

Then came lunch break, and everyone took off. I didn’t feel like joining them. Instead, I found a quiet spot near the gym, where it's always empty. I sat down on the floor, feeling the sting of my injured knee, and when I looked down, I saw it was bleeding. That's when I couldn't hold it in anymore—I started to cry. I wasn't even sure why; it was like everything that happened yesterday, and then today, just hit me all at once.

As I sat there, someone walked up to me and asked if I was okay. I didn’t want to look at him. He had a soft voice, like he actually cared. I kept my head down, and he left, but a few minutes later, he came back with a first aid box. He knelt down and bandaged my knee. I finally glanced at him, but he was avoiding my eyes. He sat down beside me after few of minutes of silent .He was just about to leave when I reached out and grabbed his hand. I didn't know why; I just didn't want to be alone. He looked at me, and I could see in his eyes that he wasn't like the others. He was just trying to help.

In that moment, I felt something shift. I knew things were still messed up, but having this guy, whoever he was, sit with me made it just a little easier to handle. Sometimes, that's all you need—someone who doesn't see you as a problem to solve, but as a person who needs a friend.

I sat there on the cold gym floor, my injured knee throbbing and my eyes red from crying. It wasn't just the pain from the injury—it was everything. The rumours, the isolation, feeling like I was on the outside of everything. And then this guy showed up, and I was afraid he'd ask what happened, why I was sitting there crying. But he didn't. He just sat beside me and started talking, not about what was wrong, but about anime.

At first, I didn't know what to make of him. He had this calming presence, like he wasn't there to judge or fix anything. He was just there, with me, keeping me company. I felt my guard drop a little, and as he talked, my mind drifted into the story he was telling. It was like he had this gift of making me forget, if only for a little while, all the things that were weighing me down.

I was so lost in his voice that I barely realized when I stopped listening to the words and just focused on the sound. He had this gentle tone that made everything seem a little brighter, a little warmer. When he glanced at me, I nodded, pretending I'd been following along. But then I started listening for real, and the story was actually pretty good. He was telling me about this epic battle, the characters, the twists and turns—it was like I could see it all happening.

Finally, when he finished his story, I looked at him and asked, "Do you know who I am?" He just smiled and shook his head. "No," he said, "what's your name?"

"Nikki," I replied."

I'm Jowar," he said.

That was it. Just names exchanged, but it felt like a connection, like I wasn't so alone anymore. He didn't ask why I was crying or what was wrong. He was just there, talking about anime and sharing a piece of his world with me. It felt nice, like maybe this was the beginning of something different, something better. I didn't know where it would go, but for the first time in a while, I felt like I wasn't invisible. I felt seen. And it was because of Jowar.

After everything that happened, I couldn't face going back to class. I just went home and hid in my room. I must have cried for hours. When my mom got home, she came in to check on me and found me curled up on my bed, my eyes red and swollen. She asked what was wrong, but I couldn't bring myself to say anything at first. She didn't let up, though, and finally, I told her everything that happened at school. It hit her hard, too. She looked like someone had punched her in the gut.

The next day, I stayed home. I just couldn't bring myself to go back, to face all those people who treated me like dirt. It was the second day I skipped school, and my phone kept buzzing with messages I didn't wa

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