Titania's POV
As I opened my locker, the metallic squeak echoed through the nearly empty hallway, grounding me in the rhythm of routine. I slid my book into its rightful place, a familiar motion—simple, uneventful. Or so I thought.
Because that’s when everything shifted.
A small, folded note slipped out from the pages like a secret whisper escaping its cage. It fluttered to the floor in slow motion, like something out of a dream—or a nightmare. I froze, scanning the hallway, my heart ticking louder than the school bell. No one was watching. At least, I hoped no one was.
I crouched to retrieve it, fingers brushing over its crisp edges. There was something unsettling about the weightless paper in my hand. Like it carried more than just words.
And oh, did it.
“You’re lucky you survived the accident. It wasn’t meant for your parents, but you, my dear. I will get rid of you soon.”
I stopped breathing.
It felt like the walls of the hallway closed in on me. Like the very air had been siphoned out of the building. My pulse roared in my ears as I reread the words, trying to process what they were telling me. The accident—the one that shattered my world, the one that took them from me—wasn’t even meant for them.
It was meant for me.
A sick twist of fate. Or maybe something darker than fate.
The words dug into me, sharp and cold. Each letter carved with calculated cruelty. I stood there clutching the note, its texture burning into my palm. The signature at the bottom—your own personal nightmare—was the cherry on top of the terror sundae.
Someone wanted me gone. Still did.
I slammed my locker shut so hard the bang echoed like a warning shot. A burst of adrenaline coursed through me as I turned on my heel and stormed toward gym class. I needed to move. I needed to sweat the fear out of my system. I needed to breathe.
But the universe had other plans.
In my haze of fury, I collided with someone. Hard. I stumbled back, blinking up into a face that looked like it belonged on a fashion magazine—but with the personality of a viper.
Rose.
Perfectly-styled red curls, glowing brown skin, and an attitude that could slice steel.
“Why don’t you watch where you’re going, nerd?” Her voice dripped with mockery.
I stared at her, teeth clenched, heart still reeling from the note. “Why don’t you learn some manners, Barbie?”
The words just—slipped out. And I immediately regretted them.
Her eyes widened. The crowd behind her went dead silent.
Bad move, Titania.
“Um… I—got to go,” I stammered, suddenly feeling the full weight of a social misstep I couldn’t take back. I booked it toward the gym, my face burning, my thoughts racing.
Ducking into the familiar chaos of gym class felt like stepping into another world—one with rules I could actually play by. Physical exertion. Clear wins and losses. A game. And for a little while, maybe, an escape.
Mr. Stamos was his usual overly enthusiastic self, practically bouncing as he announced today’s activity: dodgeball. The room collectively groaned.
I didn’t.
Honestly, I needed this.
The class split into two teams, captained by none other than Xavier and Ryder. Of course. Because fate had a twisted sense of humor. As the teams filled up, my name remained uncalled. Again. Last pick. Again.
Except this time, even that was a struggle.
Stamos had to force Ryder to take me. Xavier smirked, arms crossed, like he knew exactly what this meant. But if they thought I’d just be dead weight, they were wrong. I was going to show them. Show him.
The game kicked off with a vengeance. Balls flying. Grunts echoing. And me? I was in it.
Every dodge was a small act of rebellion. Every throw, a challenge. The sting of rubber against skin, the adrenaline, the laughter and taunts—it was a blur of chaos and release. I wasn't just surviving out there. I was fighting back.
My team—unexpectedly—began to come together. MJ, with her brilliant blue hair and fierce focus, moved like lightning. Ricky, a quiet storm with that messy blond hair and intense eyes, had my back without ever saying a word.
And then there was Ryder.
Grudgingly my teammate, but solid in the clutch. We moved in sync, feeding off each other’s energy.
Soon, it was down to three.
Xavier on one side.
Ryder and me on the other.
The gym quieted, the final round crackling with tension. Xavier’s gaze locked onto mine. No smugness now. Just fire. He was focused. Dangerous.
He threw two in a split second.
One missed. Barely.
The other—I caught.
Cheers erupted, but I didn’t hear them. My focus was razor-sharp. My grip tightened on the ball.
I launched it with everything I had.
It smacked Xavier right in the groin.
He went down like a chopped tree.
Gasps. Groans. Maybe a cheer or two.
I smiled. “Oops, my bad.”
No remorse. Not even a little bit.
Stamos blew the whistle, ending the game, and honestly? I walked off that court like I’d won a championship. Not because of the score, but because I finally felt something other than fear and grief.
In the locker room, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. Changing into my regular clothes felt like shedding a skin. Like stepping back into myself.
Outside, the breeze greeted me like an old friend. My friends clustered nearby, their voices lifting the heaviness just a little.
“Thank god it’s Friday,” Josh groaned.
“You got that right,” Lucy added, slinging her backpack over one shoulder.
Talk shifted to weekend plans. Pete’s place. Something to look forward to. A distraction. Maybe even fun.
“What time should we be there?” I asked, pretending I hadn’t just been threatened with death that morning.
“10 a.m.,” Pete replied, flashing a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
We said our goodbyes, each of us peeling off toward our own lives, our own worries. My walk home was short but heavy. The kind of silence that seeps into your bones greeted me as I stepped through the door of my house.
No voices. No footsteps. No parents.
Just memories.
I wandered the halls like a ghost in my own life, the note’s words echoing with every step. But even as fear loomed, something else stirred too—resolve.
Whoever they were, they made a mistake.
Because I’m not backing down.
I’m not running.
They want to haunt me?
Fine.
But I’m done being the girl who just survives.
I’m going to find them.
And when I do…
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