The Friend I Lost to My Own Fear

It’s been years since 4th grade, but I’m still the same shy girl inside.

Back then, I was learning karate, though you'd never guess it from how timid I was. I used to walk or cycle to school alone — it was close by, inside the Air Force campus, so it felt safe. But there was one boy from another section who just didn’t like me. I never knew why. 

One day, while I was walking home, he came up from behind on his cycle and hit me on the head with his wooden keychain. I didn’t chase him. I couldn’t. I just stood there, confused and helpless.

A few days later, we were gardening outside our classroom. We’d just planted some tiny saplings, and I remember being excited to watch them grow. That same boy came over and stomped right through them. I got up and shouted. He sneered and got into a karate pose, daring me to fight. I froze. And just then, the bell rang, saving me from doing anything at all.

But what followed hurt even more. After class, our teacher stormed in and made me stand on the bench, accusing me of fighting. My heart sank — I was being blamed again, just like always. But then, Anjali, our class topper, stood up and told the teacher everything. She stood up for me.

No one had ever done that before.

The teacher listened, believed her, and canceled my punishment. From that day on, Anjali and I became friends. We did everything together — from collecting funds for HelpAge India to sharing lunchboxes. She was kind, smart, and never made fun of the way I spoke or cycled to school. When I lost my English notebook before the annual exams, she didn’t just lend me hers — she gave it to me (she was very good with english subject) That meant the world to me.

But I messed up!

I wanted her to be just mine. I was scared of losing her to someone else, so I said something nasty about her other friend — something untrue — just to push them apart. And it worked, for a while. Until the last day of school.

They talked. The lie came out.

Anjali was furious. She confronted me, and I had nothing to say. I cried and ran away. The next day, summer holidays started, and my dad got transferred to Kolkata. I never saw her again.

I thought the guilt would teach me something. I promised myself I’d never act like this again.

But years later...
It happened again.