But the situation took a darker turn when he poured a cup of hot tea on me. The scalding liquid seared through my uniform, and although it wasn’t enough to physically burn me, the shock and fear were overwhelming. The laughter that followed was cold and chilling, echoing through the cabin as if he reveled in my discomfort. My cries for help went unanswered, my silent pleas for intervention ignored by those around me. Everyone seemed to be in their own world, disconnected from the chaos unfolding before their eyes.

When the flight finally landed, I rushed to the bathroom seeking solace. My tears were endless as I tried to scrub away the humiliation, the remnants of the spilled tea still clinging to my skin. I just wanted to forget, erase the memory of his taunting voice and malicious actions.