To be her

Chapter 3

From hell, back to heaven.

"You're nothing but a fucking failure! Do you understand that, you worthless little brat?" Her voice was sharp, venomous, each word a dagger aimed at the core of my being. "I wish you were dead."
I huddled in the corner, the tears falling freely, choking on the weight of her words. I couldn't move, couldn't speak, just sat there in silence. Maybe she was right. Maybe I was just a dumb kid, a disappointment waiting to happen.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, barely audible. "I won't do it again."
Her eyes flickered with something dark—rage, hatred, disgust—before she spoke again. "No, there won't be a next time. You won't be alive to make a next time."
She grabbed my arm, dragging me across the room like I was nothing more than a ragdoll. I fought against her grip, but it was useless. She had me. In the kitchen, she opened the drawer, her hands steady, deliberate. A knife. Cold, sharp, gleaming in the harsh light.
Her voice was chilling, a command. "Do it again."
I stood frozen, my pulse racing as I felt the ice settle in my veins. "No, Mom. Please, don't—" The words broke apart in my throat.
But before I could stop her, I was jerked back into the nightmare.
Then—nothing.
I woke up, gasping for air, drenched in sweat. The morning light filtered in through the curtains, and I quickly glanced at the clock. 6:30 AM. Shit. I had an hour.
I pulled myself out of bed, the echoes of that nightmare still lingering, gnawing at me. My hand shook as I stood under the shower, staring blankly at the tile, the water crashing against my skin.
I caught a glimpse of the scar on my hand, a reminder of past battles, both internal and external. The knot in my chest tightened, but I forced myself to breathe. No time to dwell.
I dressed in silence, skipped breakfast, my stomach a hollow pit. I didn't have an appetite. As I drove to college, my thoughts drifted back to the nightmare, the lingering pain, the endless cycle of self-doubt.
And then I lost focus.
The screech of tires, the sickening thud of impact. I barely had time to register what happened before I pulled over, my heart hammering in my chest.
A knock on the window.
I rolled it down, expecting a lecture, but instead, I heard a familiar voice.
"Are you all right, Malva?"
It was Glanville. Of course, it was him. I tried to smile, but it was hollow. "Yeah, I'm fine."
He wasn't convinced. His gaze lingered for a moment, scrutinizing me, and then he spoke again, voice laced with concern. "It doesn't look like it."
I swallowed hard. The last thing I wanted was for him to see the mess inside me.
"Sorry," I muttered, voice breaking. "I'm late for class. I'll see you later."
Without waiting for a response, I drove off.
At college, I plastered on a smile when Zoey approached me. "Wow, how did you get here so early? Everything okay? You look sick."
I laughed, though it felt forced. "I'm fine. Can you stop acting like five-year-olds?"
Denial grinned. "Oh, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today."
Mal shot me a look. "Oh, come on! You're no fun."
I rolled my eyes and snapped, "Please. Just stop talking."
"Someone's in a mood," Denial teased.
We went through the first class, the minutes dragging on, each second heavier than the last. I didn't speak, didn't engage. When the bell finally rang, I went to the cafeteria, but I wasn't hungry. My stomach was a pit of dread.
Danial, ever the clown, pulled out a knife from his bag, nonchalantly beginning to spread butter on his bread.
"Where did you get that?" Zoey asked.
"From the food lady," Danial shrugged, looking amused.
I stared at the knife, the handle gleaming under the fluorescent lights. For a moment, the urge to grab it, to make it stop, to end it all, overwhelmed me. But I pushed it down, forced myself to stand.
I needed air.
I rushed to the restroom, locking myself in the stall. The world outside disappeared as I stared at my thighs, fingers trembling. The blade was sharp. Clean. Two cuts. The release, the numbness, the momentary relief.
But it was never enough. It never would be.
"Mal, are you okay?" Zoey's voice was full of concern as she reached for my hand, but I quickly covered the cut on my palm, flashing her a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, Zoey. Everything's fine," I said, though my heart was still racing. My thoughts were all over the place. The last thing I wanted was for Zoey to freak out over something so small.
Zoey didn't buy it, but she let it slide. "Our next class with Mr. Luke is to review yesterday's test, right?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah," I nodded, still distracted by the thought of what had happened. After a short break, Denial passed me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, which I reluctantly took. I was barely hungry, but it seemed rude to refuse. Zoey, meanwhile, was practically vibrating with excitement, ready for the next class.
We found our seats, but Mr. Luke wasn't there yet. Zoey leaned over, her voice low and teasing. "So, tell me, Mal... what happened last night? You seem different."
I couldn't help the blush creeping up my neck. Zoey knew me too well. "A new guy moved into my neighborhood," I said, trying to keep it casual. "We met at Mrs. Lilly's house. He asked me to go for a walk, that's all."
Zoey's eyes lit up. "Ooo, somebody's got a crush!"
I groaned, rolling my eyes. "He just wanted to explore the town, Zoey. That's it."
She raised an eyebrow. "Is that what he told you? Because I bet he didn't."
I crossed my arms. "No, he didn't say that exactly, but—"
"Then I can say whatever I want," Zoey interrupted, a smirk on her face. "What's his name?"
"Glanville."
Zoey blinked, eyes widening. "Wait, Glanville? You mean, Mr. Glanville Bliss? Is he... that Glanville?"
I shook my head, unsure where she was going with this. "I didn't know his last name until now."
Before Zoey could say anything else, Mr. Luke walked in, his presence filling the room. We quickly fell silent.
"Great work on the test, everyone," Mr. Luke said, flashing a smile that sent my pulse racing. "Except, no one got full marks." He glanced at me. "Malva, your answer was almost perfect. Creative, but I know you can do better."
My face flushed with warmth, a mix of pride and embarrassment.
The class flew by, and just as it was wrapping up, Jane chimed in, "Have you guys ever noticed how good-looking Mr. Luke is? Like, wavy silver hair, those blue eyes, his lean body? Is he single?"
I shot Zoey a look, and she just shrugged. Jane turned to me. "What do you think?"
I pressed my palm to her forehead, pretending to check for a fever. "Are you feeling okay, Jane? He's our teacher. Chill."
Zoey laughed, glancing at me. "Yeah, he's kinda cute."
Jane was in aww "OMG, guys, stop! I'm done with you two." I rolled my eyes as the bell rang, signaling the end of class.
I was home early that day. I changed into something comfortable, threw my hair up in a messy bun, and flopped down on the couch, but rest didn't come easily. After an hour of zoning out to the TV, I decided I needed some fresh air.
I walked to Glanville's house. When I saw him watering plants in his front yard, I couldn't help but feel a little nervous. "Hey," I called out.
He looked up, his expression softening when he saw me. "Are you okay? You seem different."
I smiled awkwardly. "I'm fine. I... I just wanted to apologize for earlier this morning. I wasn't thinking."
He shrugged, dismissing it with a small smile. "It's okay, Mal. Really."
And just like that, the tension melted. We went for a walk, and I showed him around the town, pointing out the market, everyone's houses, and the old bakery that smelled like cinnamon and sugar.
As we passed a garden, I paused to admire a patch of carnations. "These are gorgeous," I said, bending down to take a closer look. "Did you know the name comes from 'coronation'? They were used in Greek ceremonies for crowns."
Glanville studied the flowers with me, his gaze shifting to me with a curious expression. "Do you like flowers?"
I grinned, feeling my heart soften. "I love them. All of them. Flowers are... magic, you know?"
He smiled, but his next words caught me off guard. "Would you ever consider becoming a floral designer?"
I shook my head. "No. I just like learning about them. It's fun, nothing more."
He glanced down at the flowers. "I can pick them for you if you want."
I frowned, shaking my head. "No, they're too beautiful to pick."
I glanced at my watch, surprised at how late it was. "I should go. It's almost 12:30."
We said our goodbyes, but as I turned to walk away, I heard him call my name. "Malva?"
I stopped and turned back, my stomach flipping.
"Good night, take care," he said, his voice low, his eyes warm.
"Yeah, you too," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. As I walked away, my heart hammered in my chest, a smile tugging at my lips. I couldn't stop thinking about the way he said goodbye. The way he cared. And I couldn't stop the blush creeping up my neck either.