Nina Entered the School, Pushing Open the Heavy Doors and Stepping into the Corridor

The fluorescent lights cast a dull, greyish hue over the hallway, mirroring Nina’s heavy mood. Outside, early spring was in full bloom, but the warmth of the sun seemed to never reach this place. As her final year of school came to a close, it had been the hardest yet. While her classmates excitedly discussed novels, university plans, and their extravagant graduation outfits, Nina remained silent, a shadow in the background, her presence barely noticed.

Since first grade, Nina had been labeled “the pauper.” The boys mocked her for wearing hand-me-downs and for “living off crumbs.” The girls were no kinder, sneering that she’d always be poor. At first, Nina tried to defend herself, but every protest only seemed to fuel their cruelty. Most of her classmates came from wealthy families, showing off designer clothes and the latest gadgets, while Nina wore a second-hand skirt for special occasions and jeans that were always a size too big.

“Graduation is for princesses,” the girls would giggle, planning their expensive dresses and hairstyles. Nina could only imagine herself awkwardly standing in old sneakers and a worn-out dress, the target of even more ridicule. Just a week ago, Masha, one of the popular girls, had mockingly asked, “So, Nina, begging the principal for money to pay for your graduation again?” The class erupted in laughter as Nina grabbed her textbook and fled the room, her cheeks burning with humiliation.

The memory still stung. She thought back to first grade when her parents had saved to buy her a beautiful pink dress with bows and ruffles. She had felt so special—until the boys smeared paint on it and the girls dismissed it as “cheap.” Her mother promised to buy her another one, but with her father starting a new job and loans to pay off, that promise remained unfulfilled.

Things only worsened over time. After her mother’s passing, a void settled in their home that nothing could fill. Her father, crushed by grief, turned to alcohol, and their once-cozy home became dark and suffocating, filled with empty bottles. Nina did her best to hold things together, cleaning up, taking out the trash, and airing out the rooms, but she felt like she was fighting a losing battle. One evening, she hesitantly mentioned her upcoming graduation and her desire to look presentable. Her father sighed and rubbed his temples. “Nina, I’m sorry, but who are you trying to impress? It doesn’t matter.” His dismissive words cut deep. “I don’t need much,” she thought bitterly, “just some support.”

Unable to hold back her tears, she grabbed her jacket and stepped outside. Near the entrance, she bumped into their neighbor, Inna Romanovna, who was known for her kindness. Seeing Nina’s tear-streaked face, the older woman asked gently, “Rough day, dear? Is there anything I can do to help?”

Nina shook her head, but Inna persisted. “If you want to earn a little money, the local hospital is hiring janitors. It’s not glamorous, but it’s honest work.” That evening, Nina decided to apply.

Balancing school and work was grueling. She spent her mornings enduring her classmates’ jeers and her evenings scrubbing floors and emptying trash at the hospital. Her hands grew calloused, her muscles ached, but she clung to one thought: she would save enough money to buy a dress and show everyone that she wasn’t the nobody they thought she was.

Of course, rumors spread. Some classmates noticed her heading to the hospital and began mocking her for being a “janitor.” Svetlova, the class queen bee, made a point of taunting her in front of everyone. “So, Nina,” she sneered, “planning to show up to prom in a janitor’s uniform?” Nina clenched her fists but replied firmly, “I’ll be there, and maybe I’ll even win prom queen.” The class burst into laughter, but Nina walked away, refusing to let their words defeat her.

One evening at the hospital, Nina noticed a little boy crying at the entrance, having fallen off his scooter. She helped calm him down, tending to his scraped knees. His nanny, frazzled but grateful, said, “If only his parents were as kind and patient as you.” Nina brushed it off, not thinking much of the moment. She had no idea how her kindness would later come full circle.

Weeks passed. Her father, inspired by Nina’s determination, began to turn his life around. He found a seasonal job fixing apartment entrances and surprised Nina one evening by handing her his first paycheck. “Here,” he said, pressing a few bills into her hands. “Use this for your dress.” Tears welled up in her eyes, and she nodded, whispering, “Thank you, Dad.”

By graduation night, Nina had saved enough to buy a simple yet elegant light-blue dress with a tulle overlay. Her father, now clean-shaven and dressed in an old but neatly ironed suit, escorted her to the school. As they entered the hall, a hushed silence fell over the crowd. The girl they once called “the pauper” now stood before them, poised and radiant. Her classmates barely recognized her.

“Is that Nina?” someone whispered. Even Svetlova was momentarily speechless, her face darkening with jealousy. The crowning moment came when the votes for prom queen were announced. By an overwhelming majority, Nina was declared the winner. As she accepted the crown, the hall erupted into applause. Teachers who had witnessed her struggles beamed with pride.

Later, Nina danced the waltz with her father, tears glistening in her eyes. She wished her mother could have seen her, but she felt her presence in her heart. Classmates who had once mocked her came forward with awkward apologies and congratulations. For the first time, Nina felt truly seen and respected.

Three years later, Nina was thriving in college, studying to become a nurse. Her father had fully overcome his struggles, and their relationship had grown stronger. Life had also brought an unexpected gift: Igor, the boy’s father from the hospital, had become a close family friend and eventually, something more. Their relationship blossomed into love, and one day, he proposed.

As Nina stood in a bridal salon choosing her wedding dress, she glanced at her reflection, remembering the girl she used to be. With a smile, she whispered to herself, “I’ve come so far.”

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