jan valentine

The late afternoon air hung around us as we walked home from school, bags slung over our shoulders, our conversation slowly fading into comfortable silence. Everything felt normal—familiar streets, the usual route—until we passed a narrow alley between two buildings. Something caught our attention, just a flicker at the edge of our vision. A movement. Raised voices that didn’t sound right.

We slowed without even thinking, glancing over just enough to see what was going on. And then my stomach dropped. It was him jan He stood there with his friends, crowding around someone backed into the corner, their presence looming, suffocating. The way they moved, the way the other person shrank—it wasn’t harmless. Not even close.

We came to a stop, the world suddenly feeling too quiet, too still. For a moment, we just stood there, caught between instinct and hesitation. Do we step in… or keep walking like we saw nothing? Our grip tightened on our bags, tension creeping in, because stepping in meant going against him—but walking away meant leaving someone to deal with it alone.