𝑨𝑳𝑨𝑵𝑰

Two

Trigger warning -mention of the word (k!ll)

I was a ghost, haunting the halls of my existence. Months bled into each other, a monotonous expanse of apathy. School became a blurry, distant echo. I was a silent spectator in my own life, my grades a casualty of my disengagement.

Home was no sanctuary. Small irritations ignited explosive tempers within me. Logic and reason were replaced by a volatile emotional landscape. My medication, once a steady anchor, was abandoned in the chaos. I was a ship adrift, lost in a tempest of my own making.

I knew my reaction was disproportionate to the situation, but their relentless cruelty was a heavy weight to bear. It wasn’t just the silent treatment; they made a sport of humiliating me. Every day was a fresh wave of insults and taunts, often centered around my weight. I tried to maintain my composure, but their persistence was wearing me down.

Then, Alice crossed a line.

Let me just get into what happened that day.
For the first time in what felt like ages, I woke up with a sense of calm. The usual morning routine unfolded without much resistance – shower, get dressed, the whole nine yards. Even the battle with my hair didn’t dampen my spirits.

A small victory emerged as I sat down to breakfast. Hunger, a long-forgotten companion, had finally returned. As I ate, my mom joined me, her expression a mix of concern and hope. "You have a therapy appointment later," she reminded me gently. "Try to be honest with your therapist today. I know it's hard, but you need to talk about what's really going on.”

I nodded, feeling a flicker of hope ignite within me. Perhaps, just perhaps, I was finally ready to confront my demons.

The day started off surprisingly well. A sense of calm washed over me, a rare respite from the usual turmoil. As I prepared for school, the familiar routine was almost soothing.

Arriving at my locker, I began gathering my books and supplies. A sense of detachment washed over me. I was prepared to weather whatever storm Alice might bring.

But her childish behavior escalated.

Saying  things like 'whore' 'crazy bitch'' 'kill yourself' then she took it to to far when she said..

'' Oh! I forgot you already tried to, so sad! That didn't work out or were you just too much of a pussy to go through with it!?" She said with a fake ass pout
She followed me, taunting and harassing me. The final straw was when she started pulling my hair. Rage consumed me, directed not only at her but also at Max, the betrayer of my trust.

Her laughter abruptly halted as I turned to face her, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "Why are you so quiet now? You had a lot of shit to say five seconds ago. Why so quiet now?”

I turned around  slowly taking my backpack off she just laughed and said

"I don't need to waste my breath on a whore like you" after those words I just saw red.
Next thing I know she was on the ground  screaming, while I was on top of her sending punches to her face. she tried to hit me back but missed. I felt hands grab me and try to pull me off her but I just kept throwing punches I couldn't stop.

I'm trapped in a surreal nightmare. The principal's office, a sterile, imposing space, feels like a courtroom. My mom sits across from me, her face a mask of worry. And there's Alice, mascara streaked, her performance of the victim in full swing. She paints me as a monster, a violent aggressor, while I sit there, a mute spectator in the destruction of my own reputation.

"That's a lie," I retorted, my voice low and controlled. "That's why she got her ass beat. Now she's talking too much and lying."

Mr. Charles, the principal, seemed more interested in diagnosing me than addressing the actual issue. "Are you still taking your medication? You know how angry and irrational you can get when you’re not," he asked, his tone dismissive.

I was incensed. My mental health was irrelevant to the situation. I was the victim here, yet he was treating me like the accused. "I was the victim, Mr. Charles! She started it!"

The words were on the tip of my tongue, a venomous retort ready to unleash. But then I looked at Alice, triumphant in her carefully constructed narrative. It hit me with the force of a tidal wave: she had won. The game was rigged, and I was the losing pawn.

A single tear escaped my eye, tracing a cold path down my cheek. It was only when it touched my hand that I realized the dam had broken. I couldn't stay in that room, couldn't bear to witness the aftermath of this twisted game.

Gathering my belongings, I fled the office, seeking refuge in the sterile calm of the lobby. I couldn’t bear to be in the same room as my mother, to see the disappointment and hurt in her eyes.

I couldn't sit in there with her, I couldn't do it.

The weight of the world seemed to crush down on me. How could they believe her over me? It was too much to bear. A wave of despair washed over me, and with it, a desperate need for escape. Homeschooling seemed like a distant mirage, a potential refuge from the storm raging within me. I couldn't endure another day of this torment. The pain was a relentless tide, threatening to drown me if I didn't find a way to stem the flow.