4 YEARS AGO
2015
(y/n) – 13 | Rosé – 15
Your P.O.V
It's been two weeks since the window was nailed shut. Bars were installed on all the windows on all the floors. The administration said it was because of an attempted break-in. But I knew better than to belive their crap.
Every day Rosé chatters to me about what she learned, how smart CL is, what an amazing coincidence it it that she'd end up with the one person in the world who could understand her. I don't smile my fake smile because with Rosé, I don't have to.
Now I am sitting in class.
Now I'm not doing any of my assignments.
I sit perfectly still and straight, and I don't work, and I don't answer questions, and they don't do anything to me. There is no detention. There are no threats. Except in self-defense, where my instructor hits me and hits me until I finally block and hit back.
I'm riddled with bruises under my stuff white shirt that smells of bleach and makes me miss my mom with an ache that I didn't know I could feel anymore.
I don't tell Rosé. I can't tell Rosé. Rosé is happy, and I have to let her be happy. It's my job to make sure she's happy.
I glare at Suzy, standing in the front, definitely the upcoming ski trip; I still blame her for the nailed-shut window, though I have no reason to.
Then I have an idea. Maybe CL isn't a coincidence. This school wrong, I know it is. I want to know why, because if I know why, maybe it won't make me feel sick all the time. If there's a reason why it's wrong, then I'm not crazy for feeling this way. I'm not crazy, I'm not.
I lean back in my chair, stare straight at Suzy's forehead, and think, I have a knife in my shoe. I have a knife in my shoe. I have a knife in my shoe, and I'm going to pull it out and stab Tzuyu. I'm going to stab her until she screams. I have a knife in my shoe. I'm going to stab Tzuyu. Right now.
Suzy sprints down the row and Rio's me out of chair, knocking me to the ground; my head slams against the floor. She spins me, it's not that hard—I'm all elbows and knees and I'm only thirteen. She yanks off one of my shoes, then the other, breathing hard. My face is smashed into the tile. I can't see anything. I can't move.
My teacher who looks a-several-years-younger-than her-age swears. "What—why would you—Tzuyu! How is (y/n) feeling right now?"
"I don't know! How can I—"
"Just tell me how you feel she's feeling right now!"
"She's—she was totally calm before you grabbed her. And now she's like, I don't know, like she's laughing inside, but she's also really scared." Tzuyu sounds scared too, having to admit that she knows this.
Suzy stands up, and I roll over onto my back, tears streaming down my cheeks from the pain in my head, but Tzuyu's right—I'm laughing.
I laugh and laugh and laugh, and I think about stabbing Suzy with the knife I don't have in my shoe. Lighting this whole room on fire with the matches I don't have in my pocket. Hanging myself in my room with the rope I don't have in my closet.
Out of nowhere a boy stands over me, and offers his hand. I take it, and he pulls me to my feet. "I have to say, the last one wasn't that funny." he says, but he's got a smug smile on his face. I like him. We'd make good partners.
"Thanks for giving a hand, bud," I thanks him with a smirk. And then I turn to Suzy without changing my expression.
This place is wrong, I think at her, and I know.
"Very clever," Suzy says, with that lie of a smile. "It would appear you're ready for the advanced placement track."
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𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍 | 𝐛𝐭𝐬
Fanfiction"(y/n), don't do this!" He holds his hands in front of him and starts backing away. He's scared, just like he should be. "Join me, please?" He pleads, his voice honest and sincere. "Tempting, but it's a no." I simply reply, before shooting him squar...
