My heart was beating hard; it felt like any moment my heart would jump out of my chest. I kept replaying the nightmare I just had in my mind. The house felt emptier than ever, and I felt lost and lonely. I went downstairs, where I was greeted by my grandmother in the kitchen, preparing breakfast. Her warm smile made me feel a little bit better as she placed a plate of pancakes in front of me. Despite this, I still couldn’t shake off the bad feeling of unease from the night before. As I ate, my mind wandered to my mother’s words about seeking professional help. I knew deep down that it might be the right thing to do, but I was afraid of the consequences of opening up to a complete stranger. The best thing to do after having breakfast was go out for a walk.

The sun was just starting to rise, casting a warm glow. I went through the same thing as last night in my dreams: I had to make sure there were no dead people walking around the town. As I strolled along the familiar streets, I noticed the townsfolk going about their daily routines: people were chatting, children were playing in the park, and Theo’s grandfather, Mr. Harrison, was setting up his colorful display of candies. He didn’t see me; he was too occupied with the display to see anything around him, so I just passed by without saying anything. I didn’t feel like talking that morning, not even with him. I found myself walking towards the town square, where I often met with Theo and Leigh.

The destroyed fountain from last night is now looking prettier than ever. I spotted Theo heading towards the small library, probably to buy some new books, as he was the one who got me into reading. Somewhere around the fourth grade, my friendship with Isaac came to a standstill, and then Theo and Leigh came into my life. As we started spending more time together, I noticed that both of them like to read; they were even a part of a book club in school. They often talked about their favorite books and authors, and I loved listening to their discussions during our breaks. I used to wait for them outside the school after class when they had their book club activities until one day Leigh had an amazing idea. "Why don’t you join our club?"

And I thought to myself, Why not? I decided to give it a try and see what all the fuss was about. The first book I ever read with my own free will was recommended by Leigh. She described the storyline with so much enthusiasm that I was drawn to it and very intrigued, so I borrowed the book and gave it a shot. The book was called "Blinded by the East". It was a fantasy adventure novel written by Elizabeth Winter. The book had a beautifully designed cover that depicted a magical landscape with tall castles, enchanted forests, and mythical creatures. It followed the journey of a young hero named Philip, who set out on a quest to save his kingdom from an ancient curse. The story was filled with many twists and turns, and Philip faced many challenges and beasts on his long journey. What I loved the most about this book was the depth of the characters. Philip was a relatable protagonist; he was struggling with his own fears and problems.

But when times were tough, he had the determination and courage to do what heroes need to do. I admired how his journey mirrored the challenges I faced in my own life, making the story even more meaningful to me. And Elizabeth Winter created an amazing world; while reading, I felt like I was there alongside Philip, experiencing the magic and danger firsthand. As I followed Philip’s transformation from a young boy to a brave and noble hero, I found inspiration to face my own challenges and grow as a person. I read the book multiple times, and each time I discovered something new in the story. It became my go-to book whenever I needed comfort or a source of motivation. It also had a special place in my heart because it symbolized the beginning of my friendship with Theo and Leigh and got me into the world of reading. I discovered a whole new world—the joy of losing myself in a story.

Reading became a form of escape for me, and later on, when times became very tough, having a world to escape to from everyone helped me not lose my sanity. Since then, I also started joining their conversations during lunch breaks. I finally felt like I belonged with them, and our friendship blossomed. We started exploring other genres and authors together. We visited the local library during the weekends, recommending books to one another and taking turns selecting the next read. But once again, unnoticed, I passed by without saying anything. I stopped at the edge of the bustling market square to rest. My mind wandering once again, I got lost in a labyrinth of thoughts. The stalls were colorful and full of fresh fruits, and the aroma of ripe strawberries filled the air. It was my favorite side of the market, much better than the east side, where they sold mostly fish.

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It was time for the town to come alive; the market was filled with people buying fresh fruit. But amidst the vibrant scene, I caught a sight of two familiar faces: Isaac and Tom, sneaking around the stalls like shadows. It was interesting watching Isaac, with his tall, lean frame, and Tom, a little bit bigger than Isaac, move swiftly between the market vendors. It looked like it wasn’t their first time going between the stalls like that; their actions were calculated, and they remained unnoticed by both the vendors and the people shopping around them; only I could see them. It didn’t take me long to realize what they were doing—they were stealing fruit without anyone noticing. Isaac and Tom were up to their old tricks again, causing trouble and breaking rules, and this time I could actually try and stop them.

Catching them stealing would get them into a lot of trouble. Anger took control over me as I started approaching the stalls to catch them stealing. But before I was seen, even amidst the anger, I started feeling sorry for them. I knew that both of them, Isaac and Tom, came from difficult backgrounds with troubled families and little guidance. It did not excuse their behavior at all, but I still felt sad for them. As I continued watching them, I wanted to intervene and stop them from stealing, but at the same time, I knew that confronting them would lead to more trouble, and I didn’t want to risk putting myself in danger for someone else. So I decided to keep my distance and observe from afar. They were very fast, moving from one stall to another, stealing fruits, and slipping away undetected.

I wished I had the courage to confront them, but at that moment I didn’t have any courage left. So I just stood and watched, hoping that they would get caught by someone else. I took a deep breath and turned away. I knew I couldn’t do anything about it right now, so it would be better if I just left. "Hey, stop, you didn’t pay for that!" I turned, and I saw a young boy, no older than ten, catch Isaac and Tom red-handed as they stole from what seemed to be his father’s stall. The boy’s eyes widened in shock as he saw them stuffing the stolen strawberries into their pockets. Before anyone around them could react, Tom and Isaac ran like the wind into the small street next to the marketplace. In an instant, the atmosphere changed from the lively market to a tense and sinister one.

My heart pounded in my chest, wondering if this was the sign to intervene and help the little guy as he ran just behind them, yelling at them to stop. My body reacted on its own, and I started following them; I didn’t see anyone else move a muscle. In the empty street behind the market, I could hear the young boy yelling at them: "You can’t do that! It is wrong to steal! Give it all back!" he shouted, but he was stuttering, trying to muster the courage to confront the older boys. I peeked behind the corner; Isaac and Tom didn’t look scared at all; they were laughing, and the young boy who stood his ground with his small frame trembled slightly. Isaac and Tom exchanged glances, and a cruel smirk spread across Isaac’s face as he slowly approached the boy. Their steps were slow and deliberate; they looked like predators closing in on their small, much weaker prayer. The boy took a step back. He looked like he wanted to run away, but it was too late. In a split second, Isaac lunged forward, knocking the boy on the floor. The strawberries that were in his pocket were now scattering across the ground. Tom joined in, grabbing the boy's arm and holding it with his other knee on the boy’s back, pinning him down to the floor.

Isaac stood up; he got into the boy’s face and said, "No one is telling us what to do." "Hey, leave him alone! Just let him go!" I mustered the courage to shout; maybe someone else would hear me and come to our aid. "Take the strawberries and just leave." Isaac and Tom turned their attention to me, and for a moment, I feared I had made a grave mistake. But to my surprise, Tom seemed to think better of it. But Isaac didn’t look scared at all. He smiled at me and said, "No." With his right leg, he stepped down hard on the kid's arm that Tom was holding, breaking it. The kid screamed, Isaac laughed, and Tom and I looked horrified. "Let’s go" Isaac grabbed Tom by his shoulder. They disappeared into the darkness, and the boy rolled in pain on the floor, visibly shaken and on the verge of tears. I approached him cautiously and asked, "Are you okay?" "They broke my arm. I need help, please." I picked him up; he wasn’t heavy at all, and I rushed as fast as I could towards the market to get help. "Is there anyone you can talk to? An adult perhaps?" The boy hesitated, unsure. "I don’t know... I’m scared they’ll come after me if I tell them. Can this be a secret between you and me?" I understood his fear all too well, and I nodded. People surrounded the boy very quickly and called an ambulance; he told them that he fell and broke his arm, and no one asked me anything. It was like they couldn’t even see me—like I wasn’t there, hidden in their shadows. I walked away, thinking that something must be done about Isaac, but the question was, "What?"