The school bell rang, signaling the end of another exhausting day. While most students cheered and rushed towards the school gates, eagerly awaiting their luxurious rides, Zaria simply adjusted her bag on her back and started the long walk home.
She sighed, her eyes scanning the elite students gathered near the parking lot. Sleek, expensive cars lined up, their chauffeurs standing attentively beside them. Xavier, Ashley, and a few other students stood chatting, their laughter echoing through the air as they waited for their drivers. Their carefree lives were a stark contrast to hers.
Zaria lowered her gaze to her worn-out sneakers. If she had even a little money on her, she could have taken the bus. But no, she was trekking home, just like every other day. The sun was relentless, its heat pressing down on her as sweat trickled down her temple. She wished she had at least tied her hair up before leaving school. The voices of her classmates still rang in her ears, the mocking laughter and whispers refusing to fade.
By the time she reached home, her feet ached, and her entire body felt sore. Stepping inside, she was met with the comforting scent of home-cooked food, but even that didn't ease the heaviness in her chest.
Her mother, Naomi, immediately noticed her face. "Zaria, what is the matter?"
Zaria swallowed the lump in her throat and forced a small smile. "Oh, it's nothing. Good afternoon, Mom."
Naomi wasn't convinced. "You can't tell me it's nothing when it's written all over your face."
Before Zaria could respond, the sound of tiny footsteps running towards her filled the air.
"Zaria!" Mila's tiny voice rang as she sprinted toward her, arms wide open. Zaria bent slightly, catching her little sister in a tight hug.
"How are you, baby girl?" she asked, pressing a kiss to Mila's forehead.
"I missed you, Zaria," the little girl pouted, squeezing her tightly.
Zaria smiled softly. "I missed you too, sweetheart."
She placed her hand on Mila's forehead, checking her temperature. "Mom, is she getting better?"
Naomi smiled. "Yes, much better than the last few days."
Mila tilted her head and looked up at her sister with innocent eyes. "Zaria, you look tired and troubled. What's wrong?"
Zaria let out a dry chuckle, stretching Mila's name playfully. "Miiillaa, I'm fine. Just had a stressful day."
Mila pouted, clearly unconvinced. But before she could say anything more, Naomi gently scooped her up. "Come on, Mila. Let's go inside for a bit."
Mila nodded reluctantly, allowing their mother to carry her away. As soon as they disappeared into the room, Zaria let out a long, tired sigh, rubbing her temples.
Naomi returned shortly and gestured for Zaria to sit. "Are you hungry?"
Zaria shook her head. "No. I've already lost my appetite."
Naomi sat beside her, watching her closely. "Do you care to tell me why?"
Zaria hesitated. A part of her wanted to keep it to herself, but another part of her just needed to let it out.
She clenched her fists slightly. "Mom, honestly, these rich kids are so mannerless and spoiled. They think they own the world. They open their mouths and spill rubbish without thinking."
Naomi nodded, encouraging her to continue. "Tell me more, Zaria. I'm all ears."
Zaria huffed and leaned back against the chair. "They're not welcoming at all. I accidentally spilled coffee on Harrington Academy's so-called Golden Boy's designer shirt, and he designed me with insults in return."
Naomi raised an eyebrow. "Did you apologize first?"
"Trust me, Mom, I did. I admitted I was wrong, but he took it to another level. 'You can't afford to pay even with your house rent, blah blah blah,'" she mimicked bitterly. "And that's not all. They mocked my hair, my sneakers everything about me. I know I'm not up to their standard, but I deserve respect too. I used my brain to get into that school they used money. There's a big difference."
Naomi exhaled deeply, reaching for Zaria's hand. "I understand you, my love. Life can be tough, especially when you're surrounded by the elite. But you need to have more confidence in yourself. Don't let them break you. You are strong, Zaria. Their words don't matter act like they are not important, too."
Zaria bit her lower lip. "I try, Mom. I really do. But sometimes, it gets exhausting pretending like I don't hear them."
Naomi gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "You don't have to pretend you don't hear them. You just have to decide that what they say is meaningless. It's hard, but I know you're capable of it. You've always been strong."
Zaria let her mother's words settle in her heart. A small part of her did feel comforted, but the sting of today's humiliation still lingered.
After a moment of silence, Naomi tilted her head. "Why didn't you go to your part-time work today?"
Zaria stretched her legs out tiredly. "Oh, my boss gave me a one-week leave, Mom. And honestly, I really need it right now."
Naomi smiled. "That's good, Zaria. Have enough rest."
Zaria nodded, leaning back against the chair. Her mind replayed the events of the day, the whispers, the insults, the laughter that wasn't meant for her but at her expense.
A part of her wanted to believe her mother's words to brush off the cruel treatment she received at school. But deep down, she knew tomorrow would bring another set of challenges.
Still, one thing was certain.
She wasn't going to give up.
Not now. Not ever.