After the assembly, everyone went about their day, but I couldn't shake off the image of Fatima's humiliation. I kept imagining myself in her shoes, and it felt awful. During break, I decided to check on her. We weren't close friends, but I needed to talk to her.
As I approached her, I saw she was sitting alone, her eyes swollen from crying. Her classmates were gossiping about her, and I could sense their mockery. I sat down beside her, trying to break the ice.
So, I'm sitting there, and Fatima just breaks down and hugs me. I'm talking about a full-on bear hug, like she's holding on for dear life. I felt like, "Okay, girl, it's gonna be alright."
As she's crying on my shoulder, I'm thinking, "Man, this girl's been through so much." Her classmates are still staring, whispering, and judging. "Can't they just give her some space?"
But Fatima's just holding on tight, like she's afraid to let go. I'm talking about tears streaming down her face, her body shaking. I'm like, "Girl, it's okay, I've got you."
Everything is going to be alright,I tell her softly,.I mean it has to be right?
I start telling her everything will be alright, trying to calm her down. I'm not even sure if she hears me, but I'm just talking, trying to comfort her. It's like my words are just pouring out, and I'm hoping some of it sinks in.
As we hug, I can feel her tension slowly releasing. She's still crying, but it's like she's letting go of some of that weight she's been carrying. I'm like, "Yeah, girl, you can do this."
As we hugged, I realized she was shouldering a heavy burden. I let her cry, offering comforting words and gentle pats on the back. It was a moment of raw emotion, and I felt a connection forming between us.
As I sat with Fatima, I noticed the whispers and stares from her classmates. Some looked shocked, others seemed amused, but most appeared judgmental. I wanted to shield Fatima from their cruelty.
We sat in silence for a while, Fatima's tears soaking my shoulder. I didn't mind; I just wanted her to feel safe. Eventually, she pulled back, her eyes red and puffy.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
"No need to apologize," I replied softly. "You're going through a tough time."
We talked for a bit, and I learned more about her situation. Her family struggled financially, and she'd been feeling overwhelmed. Stealing wasn't the solution, but I understood her desperation.
As break ended, Fatima smiled weakly, and I smiled back. We exchanged numbers, and I promised to check on her soon. I walked her to class, feeling a sense of empathy and connection.