Safiya's pov
The hallway was a sea of chatter and footsteps, but my heart was already racing before I even reached my locker.
Something felt… off.
I'd felt eyes on me all morning. Whispers. Not the usual kind. These were sharp, laced with smirks. Laughter that stopped when I looked up. Even the juniors were eyeing me strangely, like I had a stain no one dared to mention out loud.
I twisted my locker open. Papers fluttered out like butterflies. I froze.
All over them—scrawled in red marker—was a word that made my stomach twist.
DESPERATE.
Another sheet read:
"She cried when Zara dumped her. Pathetic."
I grabbed everything with trembling hands, shoving them into my bag, my chest tightening with every breath. But it was too late.
Phones were out.
Someone had recorded it.
Someone was laughing.
And then—
"Wow," a voice rang behind me, sugary sweet and cruel. "You really can't take a hint, can you?"
I turned around.
Zara.
Her lip gloss shimmered under the hallway lights. Her hair was wrapped in a sleek scarf, gold hoop earrings swinging as she tilted her head.
"Still holding on to year two besties like we're in a fairytale," she said, flicking her nails. "It's embarrassing, Safiya."
My lips parted. No words came.
"And FYI," she stepped closer, whispering now, "you might want to tell Kamal to stop texting me. He's not exactly my type. Desperation runs in your family, doesn't it?"
It hit like a slap.
The hallway spun. I heard a few gasps. One laugh. My hands turned ice-cold.
I walked past her. I didn't know where I was going—only that I had to leave.
In the girls' toilet, I locked myself in the farthest stall and pressed my forehead against the door.
My fingers trembled as I pulled out my phone.
Another message had come in.
Anonymous.
"How does it feel to be forgotten? :)"
Tears blurred my screen.
But then I scrolled.
And stopped.
A post on the school gossip page.
A video.
The locker. The notes. Me, picking them up, frozen. People laughing in the background. The caption:
"Zara's ex-BFF still living in 2023. Girl, move on."
It had 49 shares.
My chest collapsed inwards.
And then—something broke.
It wasn't a sob. It wasn't even fear.
It was… rage.
Rage that boiled silently under my ribs.
I opened my sketchpad.
A new page.
I drew a mask. Smiling on the outside, cracked underneath.
Then I started writing.
"You made me invisible.
But I'm still here.
And one day—
you'll wish I stayed invisible."
Later that night, at home...
Kamal barged into my room without knocking.
"You told Zara I texted her?"
I blinked. "What?"
"She blocked me. Said your little jealousy act wasn't cute."
His voice shook. "What's wrong with you? You're ruining everything."
"I didn't—" I tried to speak, but he was already gone.
My chest ached. Again.
No one believed me. Not even family.
Maybe it was time to stop explaining.
And start changing.