"Sometimes, you have to kind of die inside in order to rise from your own ashes and believe in yourself, and love yourself enough to become a new person."
_ Gerard Way _
᪥᪥᪥᪥
Hilary Idara Eghosa has always been one of the Elites in Crestview Inter...
I change the title of the last chapter and this chapter, so don't be confused please.
If you haven't followed me on Instagram and you are an avid reader of my books, then you are probably the only one in your village you hasn't.
I post some very interesting things there; snippets, excerpts and some creative images of our beloved characters. I know some of you haven't watched the trailers and character introduction video of this book, it's also there.
Follow me @iyanu_temi on Instagram.
By the way, I love a good cat fight 🤭✨
⋆⋆⋆⋆
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐘 (Hilary Idara Eghosa)
The sound of that slap had barely finished echoing down the hallway when everything detonated in seconds.
Gigi did not wait. Not even for a heartbeat.
Before Semeeha could fully process what had just happened, before the shock and pain could travel from her cheek to register in her brain and turn into anger, Gigi's hand shot forward and fisted itself into the thick base of Semeeha's sleek ponytail.
Her fingers tangled deep into the thick bundle of hair, gripping it with ruthless precision before she yanked.
Hard.
The force of it snapped Semeeha's head backward so violently that a strangled cry tore from her throat. Her body jerked off balance, heels scraping against the polished balcony floor as she stumbled forward under the pull.
Then the second slap came.
It landed so sharp and mercilessly across her cheek, the crack of it splitting through the hallway like a gunshot.
Semeeha screamed.
Not the shrill, theatrical kind she had been throwing around seconds ago, but a real scream this time. Raw. Shocked. Humiliated. The kind that clawed its way out of someone who had just realized they were no longer in control of a situation.
And just like that, the hallway exploded.
Screams burst from every direction as the crowd that had been forming only moments ago dissolved into a chaotic chorus of shrieks, frantic yelling, and the scraping of shoes against tile. Students were pouring out of classes now, some SS2 students also coming from down stairs.
The balcony was a mess of bodies and screams, some either scrambling backward to avoid the collision of bodies now unfolding in front of them, or surging closer for a better view, phones already raised high in the air, recording everything with hungry fascination.
