On a rainy autumn day, Muhammad was walking home after buying household necessities. He looked at a tree stripped of its leaves and thought to himself, "Who looks more miserable, me or the tree? The tree has lost its leaves, but it will bloom again in the spring. But what about me? Why do I feel so pathetic?"
He continued walking under the rain, which soaked his clothes. When he arrived home, his mother asked, "Why did you take so long?"
"The road was slippery because of the rain," he replied.
The next day, Muhammad thought about the first day of school. "I will return to those days when everyone bullied me. Why does this always happen to the weak? Humans claim to be the most loyal, intelligent, and rational beings, but I see the opposite. Even ants respect the weak."
He added, "The hardest environments to live in are not the hot deserts, the freezing tundras, or even the law of the jungle. No, the hardest place to survive is among humans. The corrupt oppress the noble, the strong dominate the weak, and the rich exploit the poor. This is the dark world of mankind."
Muhammad woke up, had his breakfast, and headed to school. He looked at the student list and saw the names of the three boys who had tormented him in previous years.
As he continued walking, he entered his classroom and took the last seat by the window. He opened the window slightly and gazed at the garden outside.
After a while, the three bullies entered the room and began harassing other students. One of them noticed Muhammad and smirked.
"Oh, look! It's Muhammad! Isn't he the weak little boy we used to beat up every day? Hahaha, how pathetic!"
They approached him, their eyes filled with cruelty.
Khalid sneered, "Why are you looking away like you don't know us? Have you forgotten me so quickly? You're so heartless."
Muhammad replied, "Leave me alone. I don't know you."
Khalid laughed mockingly. "Look at him! He says he doesn't know us! He forgot how he used to beg for mercy. What trash."
Mustafa stepped forward, his voice dripping with malice. "You piece of garbage, listen carefully. The next time you see me, bow your head and don't even dare to look at me."
Abdul Razzaq chuckled. "Why are you guys doing this to him? You're too harsh. Haha, just kidding. Hey, trash, who will save you? You don't even have a single friend."
Muhammad clenched his fists. "Why do you keep doing this? What have I done to deserve this much cruelty?"
Khalid smirked. "It's simple. Your crime is that you're weak and have no one to protect you. The rule here is: the strong control the weak."
Muhammad glared at him. "Who said that? We are all equal in school."
Mustafa's eyes darkened. "What did you just say? Say it again! Who said we are equal?"
Without warning, he punched Muhammad in the face, then kicked him until he collapsed to the floor.
Abdul Razzaq stepped forward. "Alright, that's enough, guys. The teacher is coming. And remember, if you tell the teacher what happened, I will kill you. That goes for all of you. If anyone speaks, they're dead."
Fear gripped the students, and they all nodded in silence. Muhammad, too afraid to say anything, struggled to his feet and returned to his seat, the bruises on his face painfully obvious.
Moments later, the teacher entered the classroom. He scanned the students and asked, "Is everyone here?"
"Yes, sir," the students answered in unison.
The teacher's eyes landed on Muhammad. "You, the student sitting in the back—what's your name?"
Muhammad hesitated before replying, "My name is Muhammad."
The teacher frowned. "What happened to you? Why are your clothes dirty? Your face looks pale, as if you've been beaten."
Muhammad forced a weak smile. "No, sir, I wasn't beaten. I just fell down the stairs."
The teacher studied Muhammad for a moment, clearly unconvinced. But he didn't press further. If the student doesn't tell me himself, I won't pry.
Clearing his throat, he addressed the class. "From today onward, I am your new teacher. I hope this school year will be a good one."
Then, looking directly at Muhammad, he added, "If any of you ever need help, don't hesitate to tell me. If I can help, I will."
"Thank you very much, sir," the students replied.
As time passed, Muhammad's first day of school proved to be as difficult as ever. Everywhere he went, the bullying continued.
When school ended, he left, his heart heavy with sorrow. As always, he had no one to help him.
When he arrived home, he rushed inside, hoping to make it to his room before his mother saw him. But just as he was about to go upstairs, she noticed him.
"Why are you in such a hurry? And what happened to your clothes?" she asked, concern in her voice.
Muhammad forced a small laugh. "Nothing happened. I was walking on the road, slipped, and fell. My clothes got dirty from the dust."
His mother narrowed her eyes. "Is that really what happened? You're not hiding anything from me?"
"How could I hide something from you? I told you everything," he said quickly.
She sighed. "Alright, I believe you. Go change your clothes and get ready for dinner."
"Okay, Mom," he replied.
As he left, his mother watched him go, sadness flickering in her eyes.
"What a kind-hearted boy," she thought. "He doesn't want me to worry. But in the end, I trust him. He will overcome his troubles... Won't you, my dear?"