Invincible

Woe

Chapter 11

Tw: self harm.

Weeks passed, and with each day, Tori felt the weight of silence between her and Meur grow heavier. It started subtly; a missed text here, a delayed response there. But soon, it became painfully clear that he was actively ignoring her, or just lost interest.
The messages she sent lingered unread, and her calls went unanswered. Each day, she would check her phone, holding her breath in hope, only to feel her heart sink with disappointment when nothing came.

The halls of Crestview High echoed with laughter and life, but for Tori, the vibrant colors of her world faded into a dull gray. Each morning, she forced herself to get out of bed, to go through the motions of attending school. Maya was always there, urging her to participate, to smile, to enjoy the fleeting moments of adolescence, but Tori felt like a ghost drifting through her own life. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was a burden, that her very existence was a problem.

"What's wrong with you?" Ryan's voice pierced through her thoughts one day as he approached her in the cafeteria, leaning back in his chair with an arrogant smirk. "Still waiting for your boyfriend to notice you?"

"Don't act like you care Ryan," Tori shot back, feeling anger rise within her.

"Just saying, it's sad to see you all alone. I guess Meur found someone better," he taunted, glancing over to where Meur sat with a group of friends.

Tori followed his gaze, her heart sinking. Meur was laughing, his deep eyes sparkling with a light she hadn't seen in weeks. But next to him was a stunning blonde with piercing blue eyes and curves that turned heads. She leaned in closer to him, whispering something that made him laugh. It felt like a dagger to Tori's heart, a sharp reminder of the chasm that had formed between them.

For the first time, Tori allowed herself to confront her feelings for Meur fully. She hadn't just liked him; she had cared for him deeply. The moments they shared felt like a precious gift, and the thought of losing him gnawed at her insides. How had it come to this? How could someone who once meant so much to her now seem like a distant memory, overshadowed by this beautiful stranger?

The more Tori watched Meur, the more she felt the heaviness of despair settle over her. His laughter echoed in her ears, taunting her, reminding her of what she had lost. The days blurred together, each one marked by an aching emptiness that swallowed her whole. She began to withdraw from her friends, isolating herself in her room after school, drowning in a sea of self-loathing and hopelessness.

In the quiet of her solitude, Tori's thoughts turned darker. She began to spiral, questioning her worth and existence. "Maybe I'm just a waste of space," she whispered to herself one night, tears streaming down her face. "Maybe it's better if I just disappear."

The feelings grew more intense, feeding on her insecurities. She was convinced that her inability to keep Meur in her life was a reflection of her own failures. As the days turned into weeks, the pain became unbearable. She sought solace in harmful ways, turning to self-harm as a misguided release for the emotional torment raging within her.

In the moments of anguish, she would take a blade to her skin, feeling the sharp sting serve as a distraction from the overwhelming emotional pain. Each cut was a cry for help, a desperate attempt to externalize the turmoil that consumed her. But the relief was fleeting, leaving her with nothing but guilt and shame.

Maya noticed the changes in Tori, her friend's laughter growing more infrequent, her smiles more forced. "Tori, are you okay? You seem really off lately," she said one day, concern etched on her face.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Tori lied, forcing a smile that felt like a mask.

But Maya wasn't convinced. "You can talk to me, you know. Whatever it is, I'm here for you."