It happened one evening.
I’d just moved to London and was busy settling in. Exploring the city, making new friends – the typical stuff international students do when they first arrive.
I was in a cafe when it happened. Someone put their hands in my coat and stole my things.
At first, I felt violated, then angry, and finally, vengeful.
I didn’t know what to do. Eventually I realized there wasn’t much I could do about it.
Even though the robbery didn’t leave me destitute, it still left a scar inside me. Whenever I thought about it, my heart would feel heavy, as if I was carrying a burden inside me.
Part of me wanted to forgive and forget. But I just couldn’t. How could I? It wasn’t fair. I had done nothing to offend the robber. I didn’t deserve to be robbed.
I wanted justice.