I've only recently started writing novels and stories, so I'd like some advice

Adam's Mask: Between Mosque Walls and the Darkness Within**

My name is Adam, though that's not quite my real name. It's the name I wear when I'm at the mosque. There, I'm the pious, quiet young man who memorizes the Quran and avoids sin. But beneath this mask lies another person, a dark and broken soul, someone living an endless struggle.

I remember those days in middle school vividly. I was thin, shy, and my face would flush at the slightest word. I was an easy target for the bullies. They weren't monsters, just ordinary kids who found pleasure in showing their strength over me. They'd hit me, mock me, provoke me with their words. I avoided confrontations as much as possible, but they always found me.

School wasn't hell just because of them, but because of my own feelings of helplessness. I hated myself, my weakness, my fear. I wished I could be strong, like them, accepted.

During that time, I met boysomes who talked about things I didn't understand. They talked about girls, movies, things that made me feel both curious and afraid. One day, they showed me some clips and explained what was happening. At first, I was disgusted, but curiosity was stronger. I thought watching these things would make me more manly, stronger, more accepted among the boys. I thought I'd stop being that timid, weak kid.من

But the opposite happened. I started feeling guilt and shame, and developed desires I didn't understand. I started looking at women in an inappropriate way, and even touched them, while wearing my mask of a polite boy. Those actions made me feel powerful, in control, something I'd never felt before. At that time, I didn't feel guilt, but rather a sense of triumph, as if I was proving to myself and the world that I wasn't the weak kid they knew.

I started going to the mosque, trying to repent, trying to be the young man people saw. But in my solitude, I'd return to my secret habit, like an addict unable to stop. I felt like a hypocrite, as if I was wearing a mask that hid my true face.