Obscure

Chapter-1

[Amaya]

All the eyes are always on me. Eyes of people I know and of people I don't.

I am the centre of my universe and everyone else's around me. I was everyone's crush from boys to girls.

Beautiful face, alluring with sharp features, sharper than a blade.

Curves that cut.

Brown hair with soft curls that could easily strangle someone.

Slim body, but not weak.

Grey eyes that were greyer than morally grey characters.

Clothes that exposed my body just enough to tease the lustful eyes.

I was perfect.

No, I wasn't born perfect. I made myself perfect.

I concealed everything I was, behind everything I wasn't.

I laughed a lot, but I never felt happy.

I groomed myself every morning even though I never wished to look good.

I took care of my life when, in reality, death was always on my mind.

I studied hard and got good grades even though the degree meant nothing more than garbage to me.

I partied a lot, even though I hated that loud music and senselessly swaying bodies.

I didn't drink or smoke or anything that could kill me because I wanted to be the perfect girl in this imperfect world.

I didn't want to die, even though living every day was nothing but another death of me.

I was a film major because videos and storytelling were the only things that weren't fake about me. I loved them sincerely. Maybe I was going to create a masterpiece this world would remember for centuries, and maybe that was the only reason I was alive.

At least I had a reason to stay alive.

Unlike someone else.

"I swear I'll drink till I die today. How could he do this to me? How could he cheat on me with my best friend? Those two... I cannot forgive them! I will not forgive them! I want revenge, Amy," Cassy said, as if she was enchanting some Latin curses from a dramatic movie in the nineties. Just like a witch. She inhaled audibly through her mouth and throat. "When I die, I will write their names on my suicide notes and those two will suffer hell!"

She almost cracked the table when she slammed the glass goblet of wine on it.

Cassy Winterwood, 22, and right now she was a complete mess of wine, grief, anger and revenge because she found her boyfriend, Mike, cheating on her with her childhood best friend, Megan.

It had become such a cliche both in fiction and reality.

If you suspect your boyfriend is cheating on you. He probably is, and whom do you suspect to be his non-official mistress?

Your best friend, of course.

Cassy was a film major too and somehow for a year I had found myself spending most of my time with her because she somehow tuned in with me and I didn't need to be as fake in front of her as I was in front of the world.

"Cassy, stop drinking already. Your drinking till dawn will not help with your revenge, nor will your dying make them repent. You know what's the best way to slap your cheaters, get a hotter guy and see them burn to ashes."

The best revenge would be to sew both of them together while they were alive, stuff them in a suitcase together, alive, and then off they went in the ocean, sailing inside their suitcase of love. Probably sinking, drowning and dying in love.