Diary Entry #29
May 5th 2021
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Violet's POV:

Dear Diary, today I had a weird but eventful day..

(Flashback)

Lunchtime had arrived, and I found myself seated with my friends at one of the round tables in the cafeteria. Ours was a tight-knit group, and despite the cliché, we were the most popular girls in our year.

Our reputation, however, acted as a sort of barrier—while being well-known, people tended to keep their distance. The girls in our group were known for their meanness, acting as a human repellent of sorts to outsiders.

Crossing them meant becoming the talk of the school the next day, thanks in part to Ivy Graham, the biggest gossiper among us.

Ivy, a mean girl with a reputation that preceded her, kept everyone in our friend group in line. The others followed her lead like loyal minions, each mirroring her demeanor.

While I didn't appreciate their mean-spirited behavior, I remained with them. Some of the girls often questioned my presence; I was nothing like them.

The only reason I stuck around was that, in the past, Ivy and I had been friends before she changed. Despite her change in attitude, I couldn't bring myself to sever ties. Ivy, in her way, was my only real friend—the one person who wouldn't go against me or talk behind my back. Even as she changed, I remained loyal

Ivy's announcement cut through the chatter as she declared, "Girls, I'm having a sleepover at mine tonight. Make sure to be there." It sounded more like a command than an invitation, and, as usual, we all fell in line, agreeing to attend.

We continued our meal, engaging in casual conversation until Ivy's attention shifted to her next target for humiliation.

Emma, a junior like me, caught Ivy's eye. I knew her from one of my classes—an unassuming girl with round-framed glasses and brown shoulder-length hair. Despite the nerdy impression her glasses might give, I thought they suited her well.

As Emma approached a vacant table with a tray full of food, Ivy slyly extended her leg, causing Emma to trip and fall face-first into the tray. The impact sent food splattering everywhere, including on her glasses.

There was no doubt her glasses were damaged from the fall. As Emma wiped her glasses, now smeared with food, she hastily exited the cafeteria, leaving everyone staring at the humiliating scene.

I turned back to my table, where the girls were still laughing at Ivy's stunt—a display that I found far from amusing. After finishing our meal, we headed to our next classes. As the day concluded, I gathered my belongings, prepared to go home, and then spotted Emma.

I retrieved 3 rows of 5 contact lenses from my bag and approached her. Before she could speak, she started, "Please leave me alone; your friends are already embarrassed as it is. I don't think I can han-"

I interrupted her, saying, "Look, I'm sorry for what happened today. It wasn't nice. I have some contact lenses that you could use until you get your glasses fixed."

Placing the contacts in her hand, she accepted them reluctantly. Nervously, she mumbled, "Th-thank you for these.

You know, you're nicer than those girls. I'm not sure why you hang out with them." Instead of addressing her observation, I offered a gentle and sincere smile before pivoting on the heel of my foot and heading home.

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Later that day, around 8 pm, I began packing my things for the sleepover. In my small pink duffel bag, I tucked in a pair of pajamas, casual clothes, and my essentials, including makeup, skincare, and hygiene items. After zipping it up, I headed to my mom's car.

I never liked driving, especially at night. It wasn't just because I lacked trust in my driving skills, but also due to the tragic loss of my grandparents in a car crash. Their lives were cut short by a drunk driver, an incident in which I was also present.

The memory of the crash haunted me and continues to haunt me to this day—the speed, the impact, and the subsequent loss. Our car veered off the road, landing in a ditch.

While I survived, the intensity of the crash claimed my grandparents' lives. The image of their lifeless bodies, bathed in a pool of velvety blood in that ditch, left an uneraseable mark on me, leading to days of inconsolable sobbing.

The fear of a similar tragedy always lingered, and that's why I avoided driving.

Suddenly, the car door opened, and my mom joined me. She turned on the engine, and we set off for Ivy's house

Once at Ivy's house, I bid farewell to my mom, planting a kiss on her cheek before making my way to Ivy's door.

I rang the bell, and Ivy greeted me with a toothy grin. "Hey, Violet! I'm so glad you could make it," she beamed. Returning the smile, I followed her upstairs to her room, where the other girls were already gathered.

Ivy's room was the epitome of every dream girl's dream room. Although I'd been there countless times, I couldn't help but marvel at it.

The rest of the night unfolded surprisingly well. We ordered pizza, did face masks, and indulged in gossip about everything and anything.

As they chatted animatedly, I found myself often zoning out. It dawned on me that ever since I started hanging out with them, I often drifted away. Sometimes it was just out of habit, but other times, it was a conscious decision not to engage in their gossip.

Their conversations ranged from girls, teachers, and boys outside of school to friends who weren't part of our immediate circle. It all felt strange to me. How could someone be friends with another person one day, only to easily talk behind their back the next? It all just seemed fake to me.

As I zoned out, I wasn't fully aware of how we had landed on the topic, but suddenly I heard Ivy making a joke about the passing of my grandparents.

The punchline must have been hilarious because the girls erupted in laughter as if there were no tomorrow. Not wanting to feel out of place or reveal that it bothered me, I forced a laugh and joined in.

However, deep down, I was seething with anger. Angry that she would make a joke about my grandparents. Angry that the others found it amusing. Angry because she betrayed my trust by sharing such a personal story.

Only my parents and Ivy knew about my grandparents' tragic end. It wasn't just due to having few friends, but also because I reserved my trust for only a select few. Now, with my grandparents gone, I could only place my trust in three people—my parents and Ivy. Yet, Ivy had shattered that trust.

Despite being infuriated, I chose not to confront her. I wasn't one to confront anyone about anything.

The fear of losing my only real friend outweighed my anger, so I went along with it and laughed outwardly, even though I was seething inside.

After washing off the face masks, and getting ready for bed, we eventually fell asleep. However, for me, it took me a bit of time to fall asleep.
Ivy's insensitive joke unearthed a torrent of memories, and the horrifying image of that fateful incident relentlessly played in my mind like a fractured record.

Broken windows, pools of darkened blood enveloping my grandparents – a chilling sight that still echoes in my thoughts. The blood-curdling scream I released reverberates, their once-familiar forms rendered unrecognizable.

That incident shattered me, transforming me in ways I never anticipated, leaving me immersed in tears until I had none left to shed.

For a while, I had managed to bury those memories, but Ivy's thoughtless remark had brought them back with full force. Every gut-wrenching detail resurfaced, vivid and haunting, leaving me restless in the darkness of the night.

Despite the feeling of betrayal I just couldn't bring myself to blame her or hate her for it. I believed that it was just a slip-up because she wouldn't ever intentionally try to hurt my feelings.

Right?

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