after they met her

twentyfour

i v a n a

Sitting in class, I couldn't concentrate. The lesson felt like background noise, distant and irrelevant. My mind was consumed by the revelation that had turned my world upside down.

Everyone knew.

Whispers floated through the room, followed by occasional glances in my direction. My heart pounded in my chest as I struggled to keep my focus on the notebook in front of me. I doodled aimlessly instead of taking notes, trying to ignore the judgemental glances and hushed conversations that seemed to revolve around me.

"She's the daughter of a mafioso, did you hear?"

"I can't believe it. She's been in our class here all this time, and we never noticed."

"What if her family is dangerous? Should we be worried? They might come after us!"

"I saw one of her brothers at a party once, they will make you disappear if you just look at them funny!"

Each word felt like a dagger, slicing through the fragile calm I was desperately trying to maintain. I felt completely exposed, as if every secret, every piece of my past was laid bare for all to see. My hands trembled; I tried again to start taking notes, but the letters swam on the page, blurry and incomprehensible.

I glanced back at Ray, who was sitting a few rows behind me. His eyes met mine, filled with concern. But even his presence couldn't ease the knot of anxiety tightening in my chest. I felt like I was suffocating under the weight of everyone's eyes.

As I tried to focus on the lesson, memories from my time at the orphanage flooded my mind. The girls there had been cruel, spreading rumors and lies that turned me into an outcast.

"She's so weird. I heard she talks to herself at night. She is possessed by the devil!"

"Stay away from her. My friend said she steals from the kitchen."

The taunts and whispers had followed me everywhere, isolating me completely. I remembered the way they would trip me in the hallways, knock my books out of my hands, and laugh as I scrambled to pick them up. I remembered the nights I cried myself to sleep, wondering why they hated me so much for things that weren't true.

The same feelings of helplessness and despair washed over me now. No matter what I did, I couldn't escape the judgment and suspicion. The classroom felt like a cage, closing in on me as the whispers grew louder, more insistent.

"Do you think she's dangerous?"

"I bet she knows all kinds of criminal stuff. Maybe she's got a gun, too."

My breath hitched, and I forced myself to take deep, steadying breaths. I couldn't let them see how much this was affecting me. I couldn't let them win. But the effort was exhausting, and I felt my resolve crumbling with each passing second.

The teacher droned on about some historical event, but his words were lost on me. All I could think about was how everything had changed so quickly. How I had gone from being just another student to the subject of endless gossip and speculation.

I bit down on my tongue. The pain was a small distraction from the storm raging inside me. I wanted to scream, to tell them all to stop, to leave me alone. But I knew it wouldn't make a difference. Once a rumor started, it spread like wildfire, unstoppable and all-consuming.

I glanced around the room, feeling utterly alone despite being surrounded by my classmates. Their eyes were averted, but I could feel their curiosity, their fear. I was no longer Ivana, the quiet girl who liked art. I was Ivana, the mafioso's daughter, and that label changed everything.