WARNING: MENTIONS OF BLOOD.
Her first few classes at school had been uneasy, tense although the peace was addicting, it was far unnerving to exist without any unpleasant response or jeers, she shouldn't feel remorseful but somehow it resolved in her pitying him, not her. Was it emotional manipulation? Or was she tripping herself?
He was frowning her way whenever she feigned ignorance, it bothered him, during breaks he would near her only to push her shoulders and dismiss her certainty. Whilst classes were going on, she observed him break a pencil from the corner of her eyes, they sat at a place where they both could catch a glimpse of each other, in the middle, a few seats further or less, she on the left closer to the windows and he on the right.
Throughout it all, her lower abdomen was aching, maiming in a horrendous way that meant something bloody.
Quickly she got up, everyone's attention now focused on her, moving towards her stunned female teacher and slightly leaning forward and she whispered. "Can I use the bathroom, please?" She pleaded, staring at her with soliciting eyes.
Her teacher thankfully let her, she raced to the washroom, mentally thinking, wishing her menstruation hadn't started. Regardless, she enters the restroom, rushing into a stall and removing her undergarments. To see dark red spots, she groans, whimpering at the sight.
Did she even bring pads?
Quietly, straining an innate smile, she arrived at her classroom walking to her seat with a lowered gaze, slowly and steadily settling down, involuntarily, internally cringing. Following this class was lunch break, so she could survive this.
What little time was left in that duration, her eyes were blown wide, her lips pressed tight and her attention drifting off. Her complexion dimmed as sharp jolts of pain coursed through her guts, she swallowed her spit more times than she counted, hands on the desk, her index finger squeezing the other, legs kept close, and on the edge of her seat. Just subtly grinning when her teacher looked at her weirdly.
Subsequently, prior to any students leaving, she bolted out and disappeared into the hallway. Her bully watching her.
Coming back, appearing so much brighter and soothed she swiftly took her place, bringing her lunchbox out and preparing to eat her agony away. Chunking on a piece of fried chicken, cold but still good, she softly chews in the noisy classroom, opting to take another bite but stopped herself as someone bought an empty chair in front of her desk and made themselves comfortable.
"You look stupid." He said.
She just peered at him unbothered, putting her meal into her mouth and cutely munching, no longer meeting his eyes.
He grimaced in disdain, he pushed himself forward the mental feet of the chair scratching against the floor. He smirked when she stared back at him, pleased with grabbing her interest.
"Why aren't you replying to my messages?" He pressured. She shrugged carelessly, darting her eyes around her desk.
"Hmph." He groaned, continuing, "Guess you still don't know how to be grateful." He mocked. She was quickly irritated.
"Yeah, you could return my notebook." She said, he threw her a glance offering her a warning stare.
"If you weren't such a brat, I would." He laughed, maintaining eye contact.
"I'm not the one bullying myself."
"You sure you can just talk back to me? Because last time I checked, I still have your notes and I can destroy them." He challenged and she took the bait without a second thought.
"I'll just tell the teacher you did it." She chucked back, carrying on, "I mean how much can they ignore? It wouldn't be the last time you'll do it."
Without any inclination, he shoved her lunch box off the table spilling the contents on the dirty floor. Strengthening his nasty glare, shoes planted on the surface and eyebrows furrowed and back erect, ready to take a swing at her face if she dared to say another accusing word.
She held her breath, staring at his face, all her classmates noticed their commotion and slowly she looked down at her spilled food, her heart beating loudly in her chest.
"If you so much as to say a word to the teachers about me, I'll end you." He hissed, his voice ringing in the calm room.
She struggled to keep her voice quiet.
Throwing daggers at him as he stood up and receded without voicing any foul words, pushing past the confused students who gawked at the scene.
She had horrible cramps the next day.
She took a day of leave, swimming in her blankets, curled up inwards, squirming, curtains were drawn to a complete close, encasing her space in a gloomy glow, tranquil except for the tone of the waft, a mildly sweet fragrance roaming in the air, occasional noises of vehicle, the indistinct tune of birds. The girl tossed her blanket, feeling too warm and sluggish. Her eyes were heavy, the lure of unimaginable dreams getting tougher to resist, limbs loosely plonked, hoping to surrender and sleep without a care in the world.
She was startled awake late evening, feebly wiping the drool and gingerly attempting to recollect her last thought, stretching her toes and rubbing her face, she picked her non-functioning self up. In her dreamy state, she moves toward her phone to disconnect it from the charger.
The thing she saw first, were five missed calls.
She glanced at the clock, assuming what time she drifted off to sleep, however, the calls were recent, fiddling with her choices, she went back to bed, too lazy around till tomorrow's doom, but, seemed like whoever was calling her wasn't so patient.
She received it, somewhat composing herself and activating her mind.
"Hello-"
"Why weren't you at school." His deep voice interrupted hers, she blinked, pushing her lips and pressing the device closer.
"I wasn't feeling well." she honestly answered, stiffly standing in front of her bed.
"Yeah right, like it didn't have to do with what happened yesterday, you told your parents, didn't you?" he senselessly points the finger at her, impeaching her.
"I don't understand what you are talking about, I've been very generous with you since we met, I haven't gone around telling everyone your bad qualities." she angrily retorted her torso leaning forward, lips tightened, and pulled upwards. Disliking his way of accusing her.
"And you've been shamelessly passing messages over to me by others, you think you have the right to be mad at me?" she calmly explained, mildly pitching her tone up.
"You haven't even given me my-"
"SHUT UP!!" he abruptly yelled on the call, surprising her, biting her lips from saying anything more, she could, but she had to be mature with the immature.
They both didn't say anything. He was breathing heavily she noted.
"First you go ahead and block me, then you have the guts to ignore me as if I'm nothing! You really know how to get on my nerves!" His voice cracked, and he sounded uncharacteristically hurt. "You better unblock me and reply to my messages." he darkly threatened.
"Or else..." she goes still.
Both sat in absolute silence, she was feeling uneasy, repressing the immediate urge to sever their unneeded conversation. Because she didn't feel comfortable or safe. But he would make her regret it, wouldn't he?
"Why didn't you come today," he asked again. She thought twice before opening her bitten lips.
"I... wasn't feeling too good." she tensely replied.
"Aren't you going to ask for my notes?" He sounded like he was giving her an order rather than a stretch of kindness. "N-no... I'm fine, thanks."
"You'll be coming tomorrow, won't you?"
She gulped, wide eyes staring at the calendar, softly responding.
"I'm not sure."
"You won't come tomorrow?" he shamed daze, unconvinced with her uncertainty, now delicately mocking her with a low hostile tone.
"If I'm okay tomorrow, I'll come." she firmly stated.
Even though no words were spoken, she could feel his displeasure.
"Tell me your address." he sternly spoke.
She froze.
She anxiously considered her few options. Outright telling what he wanted, or being clever about it and cutting the call midway, but he would confront her the very next day.
However, her mom shouts her name and it ends up being the perfect opportunity to say their goodbyes. "Sorry, gotta go now. I'll see-"
She quickly pressed the screen tacitly cutting the call. Dropping her device and slowly inhaling, thinking over their exchanged words she feels as though her heart would burst out of her ribcage, closing her eyes for a moment, she wobbles her way to her mother.
"There you are! You've been sleeping for long dear, do you want some medicine?"
She declined, mulling over to sit, behaving unusually. Not bound to go unseen by the experienced eye.
"I think I need a new haircut."
It wasn't like she couldn't afford another leave, she could sit all day in her room without worrying what her bully was going to do, irritatingly so, he's turned to online communication when he can't torment her face-to-face, eye-to-eye, recycling a loop of misery designed purely for her. He was going to force her to give him her home address, if he hadn't already made someone vomit it by violence, verbally or physically.
She already knew what was in store for her, and dreaded it.
She almost thought of returning midday with an acted performance of a minor stomach ache or anything she could pretend but realized would only be prolonging the inevitable.
She still didn't want to go.
Stiffly sauntering across the stress, unwillingly making her way to school to remain a prisoner till noon, steadily increasing her pace, she carried on, heart dreadfully pounding, releasing shallow exhales, her mind figuring all sorts of scenarios to toil with, but still, the intense urge to just trot back to her dwelling and not take a step out till she feels stable was overwhelming.
As she continued, she fell into disquieting notions and soon halted before her loathed destination.
Faking her smile upon catching a familiar face of her teacher, muttering a good morning, and a slight nod. Then resumed her sad walk to class.
She really wanted to turn back.
She didn't want to go.
She couldn't take it.
Impulsively, desperately, she sprinted through the hallway she'd just passed, pushing towards the entrance and booking it. She did not want to stay.
She kept running till she arrived in a remote area. Gasping heavily, she gulped her spit into her scorched throat. Her heart still thumping as loudly as possible, the realization of terror sparked up, dread pooling in her stomach.
She had an arduous time breathing. Her chest was hurting, a keen burning sense rippling inside, she felt tears stream down her warm cheeks, she felt awful. She told her mother she'd go to school and not wander off to the city in a fit of distress, her teachers saw her, wouldn't they question and notice her disappearance? Perhaps even call her parents and let them worry.
Even if she did go back, what reason was she going to give? She came back because her stomach was hurting. Because she was scared? Because she didn't want to go.
Considering both truths and lies.
She'd need to calm down first.