That feeling didn't disappear.
Even after time passed…
it stayed.
It didn't leave her.
It became a part of her.
Aarvika grew older, but something inside her had already changed. She didn't talk much anymore, not because she didn't want to, but because it didn't come naturally to her. Trusting people didn't feel easy, and being around others always made her a little aware of herself.
Especially around boys.
After some years, when she was around twelve, she moved to a new school. It was a senior school now, and everything about it felt different. The building was bigger, the environment felt more serious, and the students looked more confident than she felt.
It was a new beginning.
But inside, nothing really felt new.
On her first day, when she walked into the classroom, it already felt like everyone had their place. Students were talking comfortably, laughing, sitting in groups like they had known each other for a long time.
For a moment, she just stood there.
Looking around.
Trying to understand where she belonged.
Then quietly, she went to her seat.
She didn't know how to start a conversation.
She didn't know what to say.
So she stayed quiet.
And just observed.
For the first few days, she kept to herself. She listened more than she spoke, watched everything around her, but didn't really become a part of it. It wasn't that she didn't want friends…
she just didn't know how to become one.
Then there were two girls—Anika and Naina.
They were the first ones who spoke to her.
Not in a big way.
Just small things.
"What is your name?"
"Where do you live?"
"Which subject do you like?"
Simple questions.
Simple conversations.
But for Aarvika, even that felt like something new.
On one of the first days, she hadn't brought her lunch. She didn't say anything about it, but they noticed.
Without making it awkward—
they shared theirs.
That small moment stayed with her.
Because she wasn't used to it.
After that, they started sitting together more often. Talking a little more each day, sharing small things, slowly getting comfortable with each other's presence.
Aarvika didn't suddenly change.
She didn't become open.
But she stayed.
And slowly—
she started feeling a little less alone.
They became her regular company in school. They sat together during classes, talked during breaks, and sometimes laughed over small things that didn't really matter but still felt important in that moment.
For others, it was normal.
For her, it was something she was still learning.
She noticed how easily they talked, how naturally they expressed themselves. Sometimes she tried to be like that too, but it didn't always work. Words didn't come out easily.
So she stayed quiet more often.
But she listened.
And that became her way of being part of things.
There were moments when she felt included.
And there were moments when she didn't.
But she didn't question it.
Because she didn't want to lose even this small comfort.
Even if it wasn't perfect—
it was still something.
Still, she didn't open up.
She never talked about her past.
She never shared what she felt inside.
She kept everything within herself.
Because somewhere, she felt—
if she said too much,
things might change.
And she didn't want that.
Not again.
So she stayed the same.
Quiet.
Careful.
But present.
And for that time—
that was enough.