At the funeral, a crow landed on the girl’s coffin. A second later, everyone there was totally speechless…

You spend so much time with that bird, she remarked one evening, standing in the doorway of Mona’s room. Maybe you should invite a friend over. It’s not healthy to be cooped up in here all the time.

Mona shook her head, avoiding her mother’s concerned gaze. I don’t need anyone else, she replied quietly. Onyx is enough.

But Onyx couldn’t shield her from the cruelty of the outside world. At school, the bullying escalated. Her classmates began to mock her even more openly, making loud, derogatory comments about her skin color and her appearance.

They pushed her in the hallways, scribbled hateful messages on her desk, and even threw her belongings into the trash. One day, they cornered her in the playground, pulling her backpack from her shoulders and dumping its contents onto the ground. What’s it like being a freak? One boy sneered, kicking her notebooks across the dirt.

Mona tried to fight back the tears. Her fists clenched at her sides, but the humiliation was unbearable. She wanted to scream, to make them stop, but the words caught in her throat.

Instead, she turned and ran, her heart pounding as she fled the school grounds. She didn’t stop until she reached the edge of the village, where she collapsed under a large oak tree, her chest heaving with sobs. Onyx, who had been waiting for her at home, found her there.

He circled overhead before landing gently on her shoulder, nuzzling her cheek with his beak. You’re the only one who cares, she murmured, her voice barely audible. The only one who understands.

That night, back in her room, Mona sat by the window with Onyx perched on her lap. The stars twinkled above, their light barely penetrating the darkness that enveloped her heart. Maybe I should just give up, she whispered to the raven, tears streaming down her face.

Maybe they’re right. Maybe I am a freak. Onyx let out a sharp cry, startling her.

It was as if he was protesting her words, refusing to let her believe the lies she had been told. For the first time in weeks, a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. Thank you, she said, stroking his feathers.

You always know how to make me feel better. Despite Onyx’s comforting presence, the weight of her despair was becoming too much to bear. Mona’s parents began to notice her withdrawal more acutely.

Her mother frequently tried to coax her out of her room, offering to bake her favorite treats or suggesting they go for walks together, but Mona always declined. Her father, though less expressive, would sit with her in silence, hoping his presence alone might offer some comfort. But nothing seemed to reach her.

One evening, after a particularly brutal day at school, Mona sat at the dinner table, staring blankly at her plate. Her mother placed a hand on her shoulder. Mona, sweetheart, what’s wrong? You can talk to us.

Mona’s throat tightened, and for a moment she considered telling them everything, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, she pushed her chair back and muttered, I’m not hungry. She retreated to her room, closing the door softly behind her.

Onyx flew to her shoulder as she sank onto her bed, bearing her face in her hands. As the chapter comes to a close, Mona’s parents sit in the living room, their voices hushed as they discuss their growing concern. She’s not the same, her mother says, tears welling in her eyes.

She’s barely eating, barely talking. I’m scared for her. She’s strong, her father replies, though his voice lacks conviction.

She’ll get through this. But as Mona sits in her darkened room, clutching Onyx to her chest, she feels anything but strong. The weight of her pain threatens to crush her, and though the Raven’s presence offers some solace, it isn’t enough to erase the scars left by her classmates’ cruelty.

Mona woke up that morning with the same heavy feeling in her chest that had been plaguing her for months. The sunlight streaming through her window did little to brighten her mood, and the chirping of birds outside sounded like a mockery of her sadness. Onyx was perched on the headboard of her bed, watching her with his sharp, intelligent eyes.

He cawed softly, as if to say, you’re not alone. Mona reached out to stroke his glossy feathers, taking a small comfort in his presence. But even Onyx’s loyal companionship couldn’t shield her from the overwhelming sense of dread that filled her as she thought about the day ahead.

School had become a battlefield, and Mona felt like she was fighting a losing war. The other students’ taunts had grown crueler, their actions more aggressive. Each day was a new humiliation, a fresh reminder that she didn’t belong…