Wendy Harper was a morning person, she woke up at four thirty everyday.
All those close to her knew her routine, waking up before the sun rose and making impossible tasks happen. She had more energy than her peers, lots of useful time in her hands and a brilliant need to excel.
She had developed not just one but three hobbies ever since she made herself wake up before the crack of dawn. Basketball, sketching and playing the flute.
She would practise basketball around six am in her courtyard and would greet the sun bathed in sweat and satisfaction.
She taught herself sketching through library books when she came home early from school or when she had free lectures.
When down with the days exhaustion, she would play the flute. The melodious tunes helped her relax and bring a sense of joy. Music tended to have this effect on the Harper family.
It was Tuesday morning and Mrs. Harper sighed as she placed her tea cup in the sink. Wendy had refused to come down since the last two days. Mrs. Harper was worried.
She knew that Wendy was strong and compassionate but she also knew what a heartbreak could do to a girl. Glancing at the clock again, she stacked blueberry pancakes in a plate, poured a full glass of orange juice and ascended the stairs with a smile on her face.
She knocked on Wendy's bedroom knowing all well that she would be awake.
"Go away, Mark" came her reply.
"It's me, honey." her mother said. A moment later the door was pushed open.
Wendy looked terrible.
Mrs. Harper chose to not address the dark circles under her daughters eyes, hey hair which looked like it hadn't been combed in days and her face that was void of the shine it usually had.
"I brought breakfast." She set the plate on her bed and smiled widely.
The curtains were drawn and her bed sheets were crumpled, her books lying haphazardly on the floor, flute in the corner and the only light in the room came from her bedside lamp.
"Mom, I'll eat later, could I get some alone time?" Wendy asked politely and grimaced a little.
"Wendy..." her mother began and Wendy knew the inevitable speech would soon begin. She hung her head low.
She felt warm hands encircle her and she looked up to find her mother embracing her. Wendy sighed and wrapped her hands around her mother.
"Be strong." she whispered in her ear and then quietly left. Wendy watched silently as she closed the door behind leaving the room still again.
Wendy felt hollow inside. Hey head often hurt these days, partly because she didn't eat enough and partly because of the crying.
She rubbed her temples and flopped down on the bed, bringing her knees closer to herself. She stared at the picture which stood on her side table.
She was grinning at Emmett who had his arms tightly wrapped around her. They were standing in the field after the basketball team won against they're rival with a whopping 37-12.
Wendy and Emmett had completed one month of their relationship. It was just the beginning and they dived into a solid eight months with their relation.
As she stared at the picture, her eyes threatened to spill unshed tears. Angrily, she slammed the picture on the table and turned her face away from it.
When she had received that anonymous message, she was convinced that it was a silly prank someone was trying to play on her. She had strolled on the third floor without thinking much and when she saw what was before her, all the air vanished from her lungs.
Suddenly, her chest hurt. Everything hurt and her eyes were blurry, not wanting to see the way her boyfriend was glued to the star cheerleader Rita Stiles.
She couldn't believe it, the boy who came at her home in the middle of the night just to make sure she slept well, the guy who skipped school to spend time with her was now the one cheating on her.
She grabbed her bag from the locker and ran away.
All the hurt that had transpired soon turned into anger and the one who she thought deserved it was the one who brought the bad news.
Her phone chimed, half heartedly, she picked it up to find a new message from her so called 'well wisher'
She cringed when she saw what hurtful things she had sent. She saw the new message and again a stabbing feeling over came her.
Even if you've sent this to me, I know for whom this is meant for.
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