Just a cut.

Just a scratch.

"What's that mark?"

"Oh, I fell."

Just an excuse, just a lie.

But even if I heal from a thousand cuts, how do I heal from all these emotional scars within me?

The winter holidays felt like an eternity. A dammned eternity. A dark tunnel, at the end of which was... just more darkness.

Perhaps in these days blood rushed through my veins, air floated in my lungs, and yet I couldn't decipher if I was alive.

Merely speaking when spoken to, rotting in bed all day and watching re-runs of old black and white french films was all I did. For a fortnight, I was an object in a room, with tired eyes and hollowed cheeks.

And it's scary how much of a solace I found in those fourteen days.

It's like I was getting comfortable with withering away, dissociating from everything around me. The cold winter had seethed into the veins of my heart and I had let it.

I didn't wanna go back to school.

My parents barely understood my sudden change in behaviour. They were hyper focused on Maeve's tennis tournament in the upcoming week and wanted nothing to ruin that plan.

Not even their other daughter.

At the very dawn of my puberty, I used to find myself laughing at scenes where characters on tv had to take an online survey or read through articles to understand what they were going through. It was diabolical to me.

'How can a person not know what's going on with them anymore?'

It was idiotic, so stupid.

One such night during this period, I found myself going down a rabbit hole of articles, labeled "10 signs you might have depression.", "Are you having suicidal thoughts? If so, what can you do?" and my most favourite of all, "Are you really depressed or just faking it for attention?"

Like that's any less of a mental illness.

Who would I even fake it for? Who would fucking care if I was actually withering away and thinking of giving it all up?

Who would care if one day I just....

My mind had gone from being my comfort place to a really dark dungeon. I hated it here. I wanted it to just... stop.

I wanted everything to stop.

And yet still, on the morning of 18th January, I decided to give it another try.

To give life one last chance.

And if it took me back again, I'd never speak of its nemesis again.

__________

With slow, hollowed steps, I walked towards Class 11 E, my mind reeling the moments from last year again and again. I pushed pause on my thoughts as I reached the third floor, drawing in a deep breath before taking determined steps towards my impending doom.

From afar, I saw that the door was ajar and a few of my classmates were busy chatting amongst themselves. I chewed the insides of my cheeks as I took three steps inside and stopped in my tracks.

Everyone's eyes were on me.

Feeling terribly self conscious, I swallowed visibly and made my way towards my desk. The little chit-chat that had been in class previously had now subdued. It's as if they were waiting for something to happen before they resumed.

And just as predicted, something happened.

As I reached my desk, I noticed doodles on it. Not a single place left. I leaned to take a closer look and almost gasped.

There were several things written on it, some of which being "fugly tease", "lady doubtfire got them double buns", "fucking dyke", "loser", "gap-toothed bitch" and in big black letters right in the centre, "UNLOVABLE".

I heard giggles break out around me.

This was what they were waiting on. A reaction. To what all of them had done and were apparently proud of.

I sucked in a deep breath, withholding the onslaught of tears piercing the back of my eye and sat down.

My classmates gave me looks before resuming their mundane conversations. They looked disappointed. Like they weren't happy with me not giving them the satisfaction they so desperately wanted.

I pulled out my book and started flipping through pages, desperately wanting my eyes to fixate on a word and for my mind to then disassociate.

But like I said at the very beginning of everything, I'm not a very lucky bastard.

Just as the bell rang, the rest of the students hurried their way inside the class, waiting for home-ec to begin. I didn't dare look up but from my peripheral vision, I saw Miles sit two seats away from mine.

Second later, I felt a presence beside me. Looking up, I locked eyes with Bernadette who immediately averted them.

"Hey Miller, come and sit with us in the back!" I heard Ryder's croaking voice echo from behind.

I watched as Bernadette hesitated, unsure of which option she wanted to pick.

Sitting with her supposed best friend.

Or sitting with the guy who had bullied her best friend.

Such a tough choice.

Then I heard Ryder say, "Come on, you don't wanna associate yourself with a fucking dyke. People make rumors, you know."

I pressed my nails further against the skin of my palms, drawing crescent moon scars.

Without deigning me even a word, I watched as my best friend walked past my seat and sit down in between Damian and Ryder. I watched as Ryder leaned in and whispered something in her ear and she responded with a polite smile.

I felt the air escape my lungs.

How-

How could she just-

How could she just sit with them so casually? How could she smile and be polite with the guys that had almost ruined my life in the past year? How could she do this to me?

These questions echoed through my mind throughout the agonizing forty five minute class.

But this time, I wasn't going to just bear it. She owed me a fucking explanation, if not anything else.

And I'd be dead if I went down without a fight.

_____________

"Meet me at our spot right now."

The moment bell rang for lunch, I placed all my things in my tote and rushed downstairs to the cafeteria. The only appetite I had left was for a fucking explanation and I wasn't willing to let my chance at getting it, go.

I sat by the stairs next to the fire-escape, waiting for her to come downstairs. That place had been our sanctuary for the most part of last year where Bernadette and I would often come to unwind the stress of academia and the ever increasing dread towards adulting.

It was our place.

It felt so foreign, that word. Our. What were we anymore?

I leaned against the cold railing, hugging my jacket close. The temperature was chilling but I could only feel seething hot anger erupt from my mind.

A whole twenty minutes passed but there was no sign of her.

Lunch was almost gonna be over.

Had she even seen the message? Why was she doing this? What did I do?

Picking up my things, I opened the doors and walked out into the closed off hallway to the terrace. As I made my way down the stairs, I suddenly heard two voices echo from down.

I hid next to the stairs above them, as I watched the shadow of two figures waltz towards the first flight of stairs by the janitor's closet.

I couldn't decipher their faces from where I was standing but their voices were loud enough for me to understand who they were.

"So what?" Ryder's smoothly laced tone echoed through the door. "That doesn't mean you have to go."

"But Ryder-" it was a woman's voice, muffled. "What if she's waiting for me in there?"

"It's been twenty minutes. I doubt she's still hung up on that."

"But what if-"

"Or she could be. Given the kind of bitch she is, she's probably sitting in the dark all alone, waiting to pounce on you." He said. Hearing him say that word made my insides rot further in place.

"Ryder-"

"Ssh, come on. You know, you have better things to do." He whispered loud enough for me to hear. "Like me."

An uncomfortable chuckle echoed in response.

One I was painfully familiar with.

Yet, still, I stayed in my place, as if frozen in spot, not believing my ears.

My chest ached.

"But what about her?"

"Who? Doubtfire?" He asked, with a tone of disgust. "What about her?"

"It just feels...wrong. I mean... I can't just ignore her forever." She said. "I mean, she was...a good friend of mine."

"Already talking in the past tense about me, are you now Bernie?" I walked down the stairs. A gasp left her mouth as her eyes landed on me and she immediately let go of Ryder's hand.

He, on the other hand, looked pissed. "How long have you been sitting there, Doubtfire? Didn't mommy teach you that eavesdropping's a bad habit?"

"No." I said plainly, looking at him. "But I'm guessing yours taught you how to be an asshole."

His jaw clenched in place as he took a step towards me, expecting me to cower.

And perhaps I would've, if it wasn't for the rage I was feeling in my bones at the moment.

"Stay that again, I dare you." He warned.

I sighed. "I have...no fucking desire to speak another word with a pathetic little asshole like you."

"You-" He raised his hand but Bernadette stopped it.

"Ry, don't do this." She whispered, in her pathetic little apologetic tone.

"On nickname basis, are you now?" I questioned, looking at the girl I shared my whole life with. Her eyes were unrecognisable.

I couldn't see my best friend in them.

All I could see was a backstabber.

"Cairo, let's talk about this in private, okay?" She begged, pleading with her eyes. I felt like laughing.

"Why?" I asked. "Are you afraid your boyfriend might get an ugly picture of who you are if we do this in front of him?"

"Cut your nonsense, Doubtfi-"

I held his shoulder and jammed my knee against his special place, making him fall to the ground, rithing with pain.

"Call me that one more fucking time, Ryder." I said. "I dare you."

"Ow! You fucking bitch!" He kept yelping as I pushed past Bernadette and started walking.

She called from behind. "Cairo, listen to me! Cairo, please just stop! Cairo! Cairo, wait-"

"WHAT?!" I yelled, my throat hoarse. I could feel the onslaught of tears right on the edge of my eyes but I still held back. "What could you possibly have to say to me now, Bernadette?!"

"Cairo, please just listen to me-"

"Why?!" I bellowed. "Why should I listen to you? Who even are you? Because I don't recognise you! I don't know who the fuck you are but you're not my best friend."

She paused in her tracks, her chest heaving.

I sniffled, composing myself. "Because my best friend was....a good person. She had my back. She was there every moment I needed her. She wasn't a fucking backstabbing bitch like you! She cared about me-"

"I care about you-"

"Stop lying!" I yelled, my heart rupturing further in my chest. "Stop with your fucking lies! I can't anymore! I just can't-"

My legs gave out, and I collapsed to the floor, completely exhausted and overwhelmed. I felt utterly broken, my heart shattering into pieces. I hugged my knees to my chest, sobbing uncontrollably. All the strength I had mustered to confront her had vanished, leaving me hollow and defeated.

She crouched to my level and extended her hand to help me, her eyes filled with regret. I pushed myself away, recoiling from her touch.

"Don't!" I cringed, my voice barely above a whisper. "DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME!"

She pulled her hand back, tears streaming down her face. "Cairo, I didn't mean for this to happen. I never wanted to hurt you."

I looked up at her, my vision blurred by tears. "You didn't mean for this to happen?" I spat. "You didn't mean to betray me in the worst possible way? How could you even look at him, let alone be with him? You knew what he did to me, Bernadette. You knew everything."

She started crying harder, her shoulders shaking.

"I was still willing to talk it out with you, even after what you did at Damian's party!" I yelled. "I was willing to give you another chance to fucking explain yourself! That's why I called to our spot. And now I feel so... fucking stupid....for even considering that...you would-"

"Cairo, I was going to-"

"You know he tried to rape me, right?" I questioned. "Damian. He...forced himself on me-"

"Cairo, it was just a dare."

For a second, I couldn't believe my ears.

She was... actually justifying all this. She was...taking their side.

"It was just a stupid dare, I swear, Cairo. I'm sure he didn't mean any harm-" she took a step towards me. "In-infact, none of them...do. They're just joking around-"

"Okay, so tossing pages of my personal journal and trying to molest me was.... just....a prank, was it?" I took a step towards her. She blinked, the look of guilt crossing her features. "My life's just one big...joke to you guys, is it now?"

"Cairo, that's not true. You know I care about you-"

I shook my head, the pain and betrayal too deep to be soothed by words. "You say you care, but your actions speak louder. You chose them...over our friendship. You destroyed everything!"

She reached out again, desperation in her eyes. "Please, Cairo, let me try to fix this. Le-let me make it right."

"How?" I whispered. In my heart, I was still willing to forgive her for everything. Still willing to let go of the past if only she apologized. "It's them....or me. There is no other way."

Her tears fell as valiantly as mine but she stayed quiet.

In her silence, I found my answer.

"I see you've already made your choice then."

"Cairo please-"

I stared at her, the memories of our friendship flickering like ghosts. But now, those memories were tainted, stained by her betrayal. "There's nothing you can do-," I whispered, my voice trembling. "Nothing you say....will change anything."

Her hand fell to her side, and she shook her head, her tears falling silently.

I stood up, my legs shaky but determined, and walked away, leaving her sobs echoing behind me. Each step felt like I was walking away from a part of myself, but I knew I had to. The person I had trusted most had shattered my world in just a split second.

And there was no going back.

_____________

unfortunately, i never received this kind of a closure from my Bernadette. eventually, for my own sake, I had to cut her off because of her lack of courage to accept her mistakes and apologise. i believe she still thinks i ghosted her for no reason.

it kills me sometimes, yk.
how some of these awful people will never know or realise how they had, so casually, ruined someone else's life.

but ig,
their biggest punishment is that
they're them.

xoxo,
Bosedisha