|Sera|
They say college is where you find yourself. It’s the place where you’re supposed to grow, bloom, and become someone the world will remember. For me, college wasn’t a garden for growth but a bloody battlefield. And I was the target everyone loved to strike, without mercy at that.
I used to believe in things like friendship, loyalty, and kindness. I’d grown up clinging to the hope that if you were good to people, they’d be good to you in return. That hope shattered the day Isla Kensington, my so-called best friend, turned my life into a living hell.
We’d met in high school. Back then, she’d been my anchor in a world that often felt too cruel. Isla was everything I wasn’t: confident, energetic, and effortlessly beautiful. She had a laugh that made people stop and stare, and when she walked into a room, it was as if the air shifted to accommodate her presence. I was the quiet one, the girl who melted into the background like a wallpaper. But Isla made me feel seen. She made me feel like I mattered and I was thankful for that.
I didn’t realize how wrong I was.
It started small, like cracks forming in a porcelain vase. Isla would make snide comments about my clothes or laugh a little too hard when someone teased me. “Oh, Sera, don’t be so sensitive,” she’d say when I confronted her, flashing that dazzling smile that could disarm anyone. I told myself it was nothing. She was my best friend, after all. She’d never hurt me… not intentionally.
But the cracks grew deeper, and soon the vase shattered entirely. By the time we entered college, Isla had transformed into someone I barely recognized. She surrounded herself with a group of wealthy, shallow sycophants who adored her and sneered at anyone who dared to stand outside their golden circle. And me? I was no longer her friend. I was her favorite punching bag.
“God, Sera, did you actually think you’d fit in here?” she’d sneered at me during our first semester. “This isn’t high school anymore. You can’t just ride on my coattails and hope people will like you.”
I didn’t know what I’d done to deserve her cruelty. All I knew was that my best friend had turned into my worst enemy, and she wasn’t content to simply ignore me. She wanted to destroy me totally and crush any single ego left in me.
The bullying came in waves. Snide comments turned into whispers behind my back. Whispers became outright insults hurled in public. And when that wasn’t enough, Isla began orchestrating elaborate pranks to humiliate me. My books went missing before exams. My locker was filled with garbage. Once, she even convinced one of her boyfriends to pretend to be interested in me, only to reveal it was all a joke.
I tried to hide how much it hurt. I told myself that if I just kept my head down and stayed out of her way, she’d eventually grow bored and move on. But Isla was like a predator, and I was her wounded prey. The more I tried to disappear, the harder she pushed to break me.
Home wasn’t any better. My stepmother, Eleanor, barely noticed I existed unless it was to criticize me. My stepsisters, Bianca and Lila, were perfect in her eyes. They excelled at everything: academics, sports, social events. I was just… there. A ghost haunting their perfect little family. Dinner conversations went on as if I weren’t sitting at the table. Birthday celebrations came and went without so much as a card for me. I’d once overheard Eleanor telling someone that I was “too plain” to bother with.
I’d learned early on not to expect love or kindness from them. But it didn’t make the loneliness any easier to bear.
So I threw myself into my studies, hoping that if I worked hard enough, I could build a future far away from all of them. I dreamed of escaping to a place where no one knew my name, where I could finally breathe without the weight of their scorn pressing down on me.
But even those dreams felt impossibly far away. Especially on days like today.
****
I was sitting in the library, my head buried in a textbook, when Isla’s voice cut through the quiet atmosphere like a blade.
“Oh my God, look who it is. Little Miss Nobody.”
My stomach clenched, and I kept my eyes fixed on the page in front of me. Maybe if I ignored her, she’d go away. Maybe this time, she’d let me be.
No such luck, she was persistent.
“Are you deaf now, too?” Isla said, her heels clicking against the floor as she approached. Her entourage followed closely behind, their laughter echoing through the library. “Hey, Sera, I’m talking to you.”
I looked up reluctantly, my heart was pounding hard. Isla was standing over me, a cruel smirk on her lips. Her blonde hair was styled in perfect waves, and her designer outfit screamed wealth and power. Next to her, I felt like a wilted flower.
“What do you want, Isla?” I asked quietly, my voice barely audible.
Her smirk widened. “What do I want? Oh, sweetie, I just wanted to check on you. Make sure you’re not still crying over… what was it again? Oh right, your little diary fiasco.”
My face burned. The “little diary fiasco” she was referring to had happened two weeks ago, when Isla had stolen my private journal and posted excerpts of it online. The entries she’d shared were painfully personal, detailing my struggles with loneliness and my longing for a family that cared about me. She’d turned my deepest vulnerabilities into a public spectacle, and the fallout had been unbearable.
“Leave me alone, Isla,” I said, forcing as much strength into my voice as I could muster.
She laughed, a sound that was as sharp as broken glass. “Leave you alone? But Sera, you’re just so… entertaining. Honestly, what would I do without you? You’re like my personal little soap opera.”
Her friends laughed along with her, their eyes glinting with malice. One of them, a tall brunette named Lila, leaned over and snatched the textbook from my hands.
“‘Introduction to Molecular Biology,’” Lila read aloud, wrinkling her nose. “Wow, Sera, you’re such a nerd. No wonder no one likes you.”
“Give that back,” I said, reaching for the book. But Lila held it out of my reach, smirking.
“What’s the magic word?” Isla teased, her tone mocking.
I clenched my fists, fighting the urge to cry. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. “Please,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Aw, look at her being all polite,” Isla cooed. “Fine, here you go.”
She nodded at Lila, who tossed the book onto the floor. It landed with a loud thud, and the girls burst into laughter as I bent down to pick it up.
“Honestly, Sera,” Isla said, her voice dripping with fake concern. “I’m just trying to help you. You need to stop being so pathetic all the time. It’s embarrassing.”
I straightened, clutching the book to my chest. My hands were trembling, but I forced myself to meet her gaze. “I don’t need your help, Isla. And I’m not pathetic.”
Her eyes narrowed, and for a moment, I thought I saw a moment of surprise, maybe even anger. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by her usual sneer.
“Keep telling yourself that, sweetie,” she said, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Let’s go, girls. This place is depressing.”
With that, she turned and strutted away, her entourage trailing behind her. Their laughter echoed in my ears long after they were gone.
I sank back into my seat, my whole body shaking. I wanted to scream, to cry, to do something… anything. But all I could do was sit there, feeling small and powerless.
For the first time, I let myself wonder if Isla was right. Maybe I was pathetic. Maybe I really was nothing.
But deep down, a tiny voice whispered something else. It sounded a lot like anger. And for the first time, I didn’t push it away.
I didn’t know it yet, but that was the day everything started to change.
Life at home wasn’t any better than the torment I faced at college. If anything, it was worse. It was a daily grind of humiliation and neglect that left no room for peace or respite. The grand house on Thornwood Lane, with its ivy-covered walls and sprawling gardens, might have looked picturesque from the outside, but inside, it was a battlefield. And I was the lone soldier, always losing.My stepsisters, Bianca and Lila, were everything I wasn’t: glamorous, confident, and cruel. Bianca, the elder of the two, was a sharp-tongued beauty with an appetite for dominance. She treated me like an unpaid maid, barking orders at me to fetch her coffee, clean her room, or iron her designer clothes. Lila, though younger, was just as vile. She had a talent for cutting remarks, finding ways to humiliate me in front of any guests who visited. “Oh, that’s just Seraphina,” she’d say with a sneer, “our little house help.”Their mother, Eleanor, was the worst of them all. She made no effort to hide her
I’ve always admired Adrian Montclair, though I never expected to meet someone like him in real life. For me, he was just a ghost on a screen, a myth almost too good to be true. A chessboard in his hands was like an extension of his mind. Every of his moves were calculated, deliberate, and unyielding. I would watch videos of his chess matches late into the night, finding solace in the boldness of his moves. I envied that courage, the decisiveness I lacked badly.Adrian’s reputation preceded him. He wasn’t just a chess prodigy and he was a name that carried fear. A mafia boss cloaked in accurate moves, his world was chaos, yet he remained unshaken with all those storms. Stories about him spread through whispers: the man who turned the tides of power in his favor, a leader feared by his enemies and revered by his own. But what fascinated me the most was how untouchable he seemed. Nothing fazed him; nothing broke him. Meanwhile, I felt like I was cracking at the edges every day.People ca
I walked into school the next day, my head was hung low and my heart was heavy with fear sprinkled with sadness. I told myself that the comments would fade if I just stayed invisible, like I always had. If I didn’t look at anyone, if I didn’t speak, they’d forget eventually, wouldn’t they? It had worked before. Being invisible had always been my armor, thin as it was.But this time, it didn’t work.Everywhere I turned, there were whispers, muffled giggles, and mocking stares. I caught snatches of their cruel words, each one slicing into me like a knife."Madwoman’s daughter.""Guess insanity runs in the family.""Careful, she might snap any second."By lunch, the whispers turned into open jeers. Isla’s posse made sure of that, they kept fanning the flames she had lit. Even Dane, who once smiled at me like I mattered, joined in. He leaned against a locker, smirking as he said loud enough for everyone to hear, “No wonder she’s such a freak. Guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the craz
I stood on the edge of the rooftop, my heart thudding so hard I wondered if it would give out before I took the final step of jumping off and ending it all. Adrian Montclair’s business card was tightly clutched in my palm, so sharp against my skin that it almost tore into it.He had left me standing there, his words lingering in my head just like his irresistible perfume mixed with the smoke of his cigar.“Call me when you’re ready to stop running.”I hated him for showing up, for making me hesitate because I would have been done by now. However, I hated myself even more for letting his presence keep me from jumping. That was the problem—I was not strong enough to make decisions for myself.Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision as I looked over the city. Everywhere was filled with bright light as the wind tugged at my hair coldly.“Why can my life not be bright and beautiful like this? I am the only darkness in the world. Why is my life so sad?” My lips quivered as I broke do
I stood on the edge of the rooftop, my heart thudding so hard I wondered if it would give out before I took the final step of jumping off and ending it all. Adrian Montclair’s business card was tightly clutched in my palm, so sharp against my skin that it almost tore into it.He had left me standing there, his words lingering in my head just like his irresistible perfume mixed with the smoke of his cigar.“Call me when you’re ready to stop running.”I hated him for showing up, for making me hesitate because I would have been done by now. However, I hated myself even more for letting his presence keep me from jumping. That was the problem—I was not strong enough to make decisions for myself.Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision as I looked over the city. Everywhere was filled with bright light as the wind tugged at my hair coldly.“Why can my life not be bright and beautiful like this? I am the only darkness in the world. Why is my life so sad?” My lips quivered as I broke do
I walked into school the next day, my head was hung low and my heart was heavy with fear sprinkled with sadness. I told myself that the comments would fade if I just stayed invisible, like I always had. If I didn’t look at anyone, if I didn’t speak, they’d forget eventually, wouldn’t they? It had worked before. Being invisible had always been my armor, thin as it was.But this time, it didn’t work.Everywhere I turned, there were whispers, muffled giggles, and mocking stares. I caught snatches of their cruel words, each one slicing into me like a knife."Madwoman’s daughter.""Guess insanity runs in the family.""Careful, she might snap any second."By lunch, the whispers turned into open jeers. Isla’s posse made sure of that, they kept fanning the flames she had lit. Even Dane, who once smiled at me like I mattered, joined in. He leaned against a locker, smirking as he said loud enough for everyone to hear, “No wonder she’s such a freak. Guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the craz
I’ve always admired Adrian Montclair, though I never expected to meet someone like him in real life. For me, he was just a ghost on a screen, a myth almost too good to be true. A chessboard in his hands was like an extension of his mind. Every of his moves were calculated, deliberate, and unyielding. I would watch videos of his chess matches late into the night, finding solace in the boldness of his moves. I envied that courage, the decisiveness I lacked badly.Adrian’s reputation preceded him. He wasn’t just a chess prodigy and he was a name that carried fear. A mafia boss cloaked in accurate moves, his world was chaos, yet he remained unshaken with all those storms. Stories about him spread through whispers: the man who turned the tides of power in his favor, a leader feared by his enemies and revered by his own. But what fascinated me the most was how untouchable he seemed. Nothing fazed him; nothing broke him. Meanwhile, I felt like I was cracking at the edges every day.People ca
Life at home wasn’t any better than the torment I faced at college. If anything, it was worse. It was a daily grind of humiliation and neglect that left no room for peace or respite. The grand house on Thornwood Lane, with its ivy-covered walls and sprawling gardens, might have looked picturesque from the outside, but inside, it was a battlefield. And I was the lone soldier, always losing.My stepsisters, Bianca and Lila, were everything I wasn’t: glamorous, confident, and cruel. Bianca, the elder of the two, was a sharp-tongued beauty with an appetite for dominance. She treated me like an unpaid maid, barking orders at me to fetch her coffee, clean her room, or iron her designer clothes. Lila, though younger, was just as vile. She had a talent for cutting remarks, finding ways to humiliate me in front of any guests who visited. “Oh, that’s just Seraphina,” she’d say with a sneer, “our little house help.”Their mother, Eleanor, was the worst of them all. She made no effort to hide her
|Sera|They say college is where you find yourself. It’s the place where you’re supposed to grow, bloom, and become someone the world will remember. For me, college wasn’t a garden for growth but a bloody battlefield. And I was the target everyone loved to strike, without mercy at that.I used to believe in things like friendship, loyalty, and kindness. I’d grown up clinging to the hope that if you were good to people, they’d be good to you in return. That hope shattered the day Isla Kensington, my so-called best friend, turned my life into a living hell.We’d met in high school. Back then, she’d been my anchor in a world that often felt too cruel. Isla was everything I wasn’t: confident, energetic, and effortlessly beautiful. She had a laugh that made people stop and stare, and when she walked into a room, it was as if the air shifted to accommodate her presence. I was the quiet one, the girl who melted into the background like a wallpaper. But Isla made me feel seen. She made me fee