The whispers II

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POV: Seraphina

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Yesterday, my world shattered.

I found them in the east hallway. The one nobody used. The one where the lights flickered and the floor tiles were cracked. I'd been looking for Marcus. He said he had something important to tell me. Something about our future.

I should have known better.

Vivian's laugh echoed first. That high, musical sound she used when she was about to destroy someone. I'd heard it a thousand times. Usually directed at me.

Then I heard Marcus's voice.

"Shh, someone might hear."

I froze. My feet wouldn't move. My heart wouldn't beat. Something was wrong. I knew something was wrong. But I couldn't stop myself from stepping closer.

The hallway opened up. A small alcove. Hidden from view.

They were pressed against the wall. Vivian's designer dress was bunched around her waist. Marcus's hands were on her hips. His pants were undone.

I stood there. Watching. Unable to look away.

Their first time. He promised me it would be their first time. OURS. He said he wanted it to be special. He said he'd been waiting for the right moment.

The right moment was never going to come. Because he'd already given it to her.

Vivian saw me first. Her eyes met mine over Marcus's shoulder. A slow smile spread across her face. The smile of a predator who'd just cornered her prey.

Marcus followed her gaze. He turned. He saw me.

For one second, he looked guilty. His eyes widened. His mouth opened.

Then he shrugged.

"You were taking too long," he said. "What did you expect?"

What did I expect?

I expected to be loved. I expected to be enough. I expected that the one person who noticed me would actually want me.

I was wrong.

"Seraphina, wait—" He started to pull up his pants. To come after me.

But I was already running.

I ran down the hallway. Past the lockers. Past the classrooms. Past the whispers that followed me everywhere I went. I ran until my lungs burned and my eyes stung.

I didn't cry. Not then. Not yet.

I was too numb for tears.

Later, in my dorm room, I stared at my reflection. The girl who looked back at me was a stranger. Pale. Hollow. Broken.

Marcus was the only boy who ever paid attention to me. The only one who looked past the braces and the shyness and the oversized sweaters. He made me feel like I mattered. Like I wasn't invisible.

But I'd been wrong.

I wasn't invisible. I was just convenient. Easy. Someone who would accept scraps of attention and call it love.

"Maybe now you'll get the hint." Vivian's voice echoed in my head. "He was never yours. He was just passing time. With a Blackwood who acts like a nobody."

She was right.

I was a nobody. Even though my father was one of the most powerful men in the city. Even though my family name carried weight. Even though I could have been anything.

I chose to be nothing.

Because being something meant being seen. And being seen meant being hurt.

But I was already hurt. I was always hurt.

I touched my reflection. The small scar on my chin. The dark circles under my eyes. The girl who'd spent four years trying to disappear.

I couldn't cry. I couldn't feel anything except this hollow, aching emptiness where my heart used to be.

Marcus had taken everything from me. My hope. My trust. My belief that someone could actually want me.

And I'd given it to him willingly. Because I was so desperate for love that I'd accepted whatever he offered. Even when it was just crumbs.

Even when it was nothing.

"You're pathetic." I said it out loud. To the girl in the mirror. "You're pathetic, and you're alone, and nobody will ever want you."

The girl in the mirror didn't argue.

I thought about confronting them. Screaming. Crying. Making a scene. That's what normal people would do. That's what someone with self-respect would do.

But I had no self-respect. I had nothing.

So I just sat there. On my bed. Staring at the wall. Waiting for the numbness to pass.

It didn't pass.

Hours later, when my roommate came back, I pretended to be asleep. I couldn't face anyone. I couldn't face the questions. The pity. The "are you okay?" that nobody actually meant.

Because I wasn't okay. I hadn't been okay for four years. Maybe I'd never been okay.

And then, somewhere in the middle of the night, something shifted.

The numbness cracked. Just a little. And underneath it, something else emerged.

Rage.

Not the hot, explosive kind. The cold, quiet kind. The kind that doesn't scream. The kind that waits. The kind that plans.

He'd taken everything from me. Vivian had taken everything from me. And I'd let them. I'd let everyone walk all over me. I'd made myself so small that I was barely there.

But I was still here.

And I was done being nothing.

I looked at the mirror again. The girl staring back at me was still hollow. Still broken. Still invisible.

But tomorrow, everything would change.

Tomorrow, I would make them see me.

I didn't know how. I didn't know what I'd do. But I knew I couldn't be her anymore. The girl with the braces. The girl with the head down. The girl who let everyone step on her.

Something had to break.

And I was going to be the one holding the hammer.

I didn't sleep that night. I just stared at the ceiling, replaying the moment in the hallway. Marcus's hands on Vivian's hips. Her satisfied smile. His casual dismissal.

"You were taking too long. What did you expect?"

What did I expect?

I expected to be loved. And I was wrong.

But tomorrow, I wouldn't expect anything. I wouldn't hope for anything. I would take what I wanted. For the first time in my life, I would stop being a victim.

Marcus had made his choice. He chose Vivian. He chose status. He chose the girl who could give him everything I couldn't.

Fine.

Let him have her.

But he'd regret it.

They'd all regret it.

Because tomorrow, I was going to become someone they'd never forget.