When The Puppet Falls For The Puppeteer

The Chains that He left behind

Myra

The final bell rang—loud and liberating—signaling the end of junior year and the beginning of summer break. Students spilled into the hallway of Crenshaw High like a broken dam—shouting, laughing, slamming lockers shut, tossing papers in the air. The jocks strutted past like Gods, swaggering toward the parking lot, arms slung around cheerleaders in crop tops and short skirts.

Everyone seemed to belong somewhere.

Everyone but me.

I slipped through the chaos, hugging my books to my chest like a shield, aiming for the exit before someone remembered I existed.

But, of course, the universe had other plans.

I bumped into someone.
"What's up, trailer trash? High on vodka again?"

I looked up to see none other than the plastic Barbie clique of Crenshaw High—Jessica Hales and her entourage.

I mumbled an apology and kept walking, slipping past her. I didn't stop. I'd perfected the art of ignoring them years ago. Pretend they're invisible. Breathe. Don't give them what they want.

But I could still hear them—laughter echoing, clawing at my back.

They thought they knew me—because I don't live in a mansion like them, because I was raised by a single mom. Riverbridge is a small town closer to Chicago, Illinois. Not small enough to be forgettable, just small enough that everyone knows everyone and everything about everyone. That's what I hate most about it. All I want is to disappear—but this town refuses to let anyone vanish.

God knows why my mom is hell-bent on living here her whole life. Probably because it's easier to get your booze and pot when you've practically trained the sellers. Another highlight: my mom, Ms. Caitlyn Jules, is a recovering alcoholic who's a little too fond of smoking weed—hence the vodka comment.

Ignoring the makeup-caked faces in front of me, I made my way to my locker. I just wanted to be done for the day and officially start summer break. My best friend Ashley—predictably—was making out with her boyfriend at the lockers. I waved at the African American bombshell with the messy ponytail as her eyes met mine and she rushed toward me, pulling me into a bear hug.

"Heeeyyyyyaaa! Myra-bear! We made it to senior year!" she squealed. "Three months and it's our year!"

Ashley and I have been friends forever. She's basically my only friend and the coolest person I know—after my mom. She's sassy, sexy, and upfront. She doesn't take crap from anyone and lives to party. Reckless and impulsive—a complete opposite of me. She's all about 'you only live once' and lives it to the fullest.

"Myra-bear, I've hugged you for like... four Mississippis now. If you don't hug me back, this is gonna look real weird," she laughed as I stood stiff.

"Yeah... you kind of trapped my hands," I said, pointing out that I physically couldn't return the hug.

She broke the hug, confused, and we both burst out laughing.

"Speaking of weird..." I started, grabbing my stuff from the locker. "What's with the glances I've been getting all day?"

I'm not Queen B or anything—I hardly get attention. I keep to myself, stay quiet. High school vocabulary would label me a loner. But today, I had this strange feeling that everyone was staring, whispering.

"So... you haven't heard, huh?" Ashley said, exchanging looks with her boyfriend.

"What, Ash?" I asked, now really curious.

"Well, the Dark Lord of Riverbridge is—"

"Ash!" Daniel cut her off, and she rolled her eyes.

"Myra, you know my dad's planning to retire," Dan said.