The Ties That Bind

Chapter 2✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

As Alma exited her classroom, she felt the familiar weight of her bullies' presence lurking behind her. With a quickened pace, she attempted to evade them, but their determined footsteps echoed ominously in the now empty corridor.

Suddenly, they materialized in front of her, blocking her path with malicious intent. Alma's heart sank as she recognized the ringleader, Ilythia, her eyes narrowed with contempt.

"I saw you talking to Robyn again," Ilythia said, her voice dripping with venom. "What did I already tell you about that?"

"We were just talking," Alma replied with a sigh, attempting to sidestep her. But the bully blocked her path once more.

"Do you really think he could be into you?" Ilythia sneered, her voice filled with sarcasm as she sought the approval of her friends. "He's just being nice to you out of pity. Robyn always had a thing for hopeless causes, doing charity work and all," she added with a laugh that sent shivers down Alma's spine. The sound had haunted her dreams for countless nights, a constant reminder of her torment.

The words stung, but Alma refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing her hurt. Weariness weighed heavy on her shoulders as she longed for the safety of her home.

Seeing her lack of reaction from her words, Ilythia snatched the journal from Alma's grasp, eliciting a cry of protest from her lips.

"My journal!" Alma's voice rang out, filled with desperation and anguish. "Give it back!"

"Let's see what we have here..." the Ilythia mused aloud, flipping through the pages with a cruel grin. "What kind of thoughts could go through a freak's mind?"

Alma's heart sank as she watched her private thoughts and emotions laid bare before her tormentors. She felt exposed, vulnerable, as if her soul had been stripped bare for all to see.

"Is there anything about Robyn in here?" another girl chimed in, her voice dripping with contempt. "Any love letters, perhaps?"

"I'm sure she fills pages with his name and hearts, trying to cast a spell on him like her witch mother," yet another bully sneered, laughter bubbling up from deep within her.

Alma's desperation grew with each passing moment as she pleaded with the bullies to return her journal. It was more than just a collection of words on paper—it was a piece of her, a repository of her hopes, fears, and dreams. Without it, she felt lost, exposed, and utterly alone. As she continued to reach for her journal, her movements grew increasingly frantic. She lunged towards the girl who held her precious possession, her hands grasping desperately at the air as she attempted to reclaim what was rightfully hers.

But Ilythia, fueled by malice and spite, only backed away, taunting Alma with the journal held high above her head. Her eyes scanned the pages hungrily, eager to uncover Alma's most intimate thoughts and feelings, encouraged by the hysterical laughter of her friends .

Caught up in the chaos of the moment, none of them noticed how dangerously close they were getting to the staircase. With each passing second, they edged closer and closer to the precipice, teetering on the edge of disaster. In one final attempt to snatch her journal back, Alma lunged forward, her fingers brushing against the Ilythia's hand. But it was too late. With a sudden stumble, the bully lost her footing, her body pitching backward uncontrollably.

Alma watched in horror as Ilythia tumbled downwards, her scream echoing through the empty corridor. Time seemed to slow as she fell, each moment stretching out agonizingly as Alma and the other bullies stood frozen in shock. But despite their horror, there was nothing they could do to stop her descent. With a sickening thud, Ilythia landed at the bottom of the stairs, her body crumpled and unmoving.