I was cursed to have been enrolled in my school; if you actually want to call it one. Due to extremely weak disciplinary enforcements, trouble was a norm in the all-boys institution and rules existed for the purpose of being broken. Teachers came only to fill in their boring lives and only a handful of students were serious about their future. I was one of that handful. Also, due to my small physique, I was an attractive target for the "wolves" in the school. And of course, every wolf pack has its leader. In my school, his name was Shah.

Everyone knew Shah and especially how he was like. Big and strong, he emitted the perfect gangster aura. Not even the teachers wanted to mess with him, though it wasn't like they even bothered. Shah was an avid pickpocket, the teachers were also beyond the grasp of his swift hand's mercy. He punched a lot, and I was his favourite punching bag. You might assume he was a dim person, but on the contrary, he was incredibly smart. He would punch your stomach so bruises would rarely display themselves. The fear that surfaced would be the glue to keep your mouth shut.

I guess the main reason he made me suffer was that I knew his secret. Due to that one day, when I caught him swallowing pills for his epilepsy in front of the mirror in the gents'. Shah may go against the stereotype that all bullies are stupid, but he still displayed stereotypical signs of a bully's insecurity. No one in school knew of his disorder and he had wanted to keep it that way; until my bladder just had to be full that afternoon. That day, I got my worst beating.

I never understood his insecurity until recently. As the bruises grew, so did the hatred. I would curse Shah in my sleep, scream silent profanities at the back or his head, and once I even gave him the finger when he looked the other way. His existence revolted me, but my bruised body seemed to amuse his sick self.

One day, as I entered the bathroom, an ever familiar bottle of pills caught my eye simultaneously the way my breath was caught in my throat. Frantically, my eyes darted around. It was then I realised the bottle was a result of abandonment. The air grew cold as I held the bottle in my hand. Questions swarmed in my head. Will he actually let go of me of I were to return this damned bottle? Somewhere deep within me, the devil in my heart whispered a soft but powerful "no". My body coordinated with my darkened heart. My legs brought the rest of me to a cubicle and my hands tipped the bottle, flushing the contents. As I left, a twisted sense of liberation filled me. If that Shah does die, then he deserves it.

In class, I sat two places diagonally behind Shah, so I saw everything clearly. First, his fingers began to twitch. It was mild initially, but within time, the twitching became more violent. He tried to reach for his bag, maybe to look for the pills, but he failed and as a result, he toppled over onto the floor. Foam had gathered around his mouth and his body was twitching uncontrollably. Nearly everyone howled in laughter. There someone was, experiencing a fatal fit, and the damned class was laughing in response. How I hated that school. Only after the teacher took control that they shut up. The teacher had called for an ambulance after searching for his non-existent pills. The situation became more tense as the crowd gathered around Shah's body.

When rescue arrived and Shah was placed onto a stretcher, I realised his eyes were open. I will never forget how, that when the stretcher passed by me, Shah's eyes looked straight into mine. In that moment, I knew. I knew that Shah knew.

A few months after that incident, the guilt began to creep into me. It was only when Shah moved to another school that I understood his twisted insecurity. A leader wolf has to be free from such flaws.

It's been three years, and Shah's eyes full of fury, humiliation and possibly even remorse, still occupy my thoughts. Right now, I just wait for my grave mistake from the past to catch up and punish me for what I've done.