Section D

She had always been a quiet girl with loud dreams. Tucked away in a modest home, she often sat by the window, watching the stars and whispering to herself, “One day, I’ll reach them.”

Class 9A was where she belonged — among the achievers, the hopeful, the proud. Her parents beamed with joy every time someone said, “Your daughter is brilliant.”

But one day, a small fall — two marks less than expected. That’s all it took.

They moved her to Class 9D — a section no one respected, the section no one talked about with pride, a section where no one dared to dream but only endured. The school didn’t ask why. They didn’t ask how. They just shifted her, like she was a misplaced file. Suddenly, she wasn’t “bright.” She was “a disappointment.” Teachers mocked her. Threatened her. Her dreams grew dim.

“You’re lucky we haven’t thrown you out yet,”one teacher said.

Another warned, “One more low mark and we’ll push you down to E. You’ll be out of this school next.”

Every day was a threat, a war against humiliation. Every class was a reminder that she had “ fallen .” They mocked her handwriting, sneered at her answers, laughed when she hesitated. No encouragement. No kindness. Only warnings. The school didn’t ask questions. No guidance, no conversation. Just pressure.

“ One more slip, and we’ll send you back to Class 8,”they warned. They made her write it down—her fear, her shame, in her own handwriting.

One evening, On the school bus, she wept silently. And when she saw her father waiting, she collapsed into his arms. “They changed my section,” was all she could say. Days later, she took her own life. A girl with dreams as vast as the sky was buried under the weight of shame, threats, and silence.

The girl with stars in her eyes said goodbye to the world.

Her parents are still asking, “What went wrong?”

They raised a daughter for the skies. The world buried her instead.