5

Rosie

The New Year went by in the blink of an eye and I didn't know how it went. I've been cooped up in bed after being saved by Kira from dying of hypothermia after standing in the snow for hours. I fell ill for days and Kira nursed me back to life.

What was the essence of living again?

Why am I still alive?

I thought and looked at the mirror again to look at myself, and I hated what I saw-My cheeks were puffy, my eyes sunken and tired, my lips cracked from the fever I'd had for days. My nose looked wrong. My hair was a tangled mess of waves that had given up on life, and my freckles stood out against my pale skin like little reminders of everything I hated about myself not perfect like my gorgeous twin sister.

I never hated myself more than this. I quickly glanced away from it. I didn't want those thoughts creeping into my head now. The dark thoughts that had been lurking at the edges of my mind for days, whispering that maybe it would be easier to just disappear. I would need to be clear-headed for today's class. I couldn't afford to fall apart now.

School resumed. Spring semester started today. Six months to finish my program. I couldn't let this disrupt my perfect GPA.

Six months remained to finish my program and I couldn't wait to finish it and run away from this hellhole called Silverwestern. Six more months and I could leave this place behind, start over somewhere new where nobody knew me.

Kira walked out of the shower, a towel wrapped around her chest as she stared at me, her gaze softening as she moved to me. "We can skip today if you want," Kira offered, and I shook my head. I couldn't do that to her. Make her miss school on the first day. She has done enough for me these days.

"I just can't hide forever," I mumbled. "I need to face it now," I said, though I didn't know if I could really face it or if I was putting on a front. I put some books in my bag and did my best not to look at the mirror again. I'd had enough of crying, wallowing in anguish.

After Kira was done dressing up, she drove me to campus in perfect silence, which I appreciated.

School looked different. Although the Christmas lights and tree designs were still up, the school looked different as students got out of their cars and walked to their respective places. Everyone seemed so normal, so carefree, friends grinning at one another.

I came out of the car, breathed in deeply as my bag slung behind me while I held the handle tightly for dear life. I dropped my head down and walked through the campus, but something felt off and different. I could feel eyes on me, students staring at me like I had a stigma at the top of my head. Well, I really had a stigma on my head. The scarlet letter of the digital age-exposed, judged, and humiliated.

Whispers started flying around the hallway and I gripped the handle tighter so hard that my knuckles ached, still walking to my class. Some people were really openly staring at me, not even hiding it.

I could catch some words floating around.

"That's her."

"The video girl."

"Can you believe..."

My skin crawled with every step. I wanted to run away and kept my head down, wishing to reach my class quicker. It felt like the hallway looked longer than I remembered.

As I entered my class, students were already there and I gulped. God, the eyes are too much! I wanted to go back to the comfort of Kira's house.

A guy from the back seat said, "Yo, you looking for another guy to film with?" and all the students erupted in laughter.

"I got a camera, just saying."

More laughter filled the room as I found my way to my seat, my face burned with humiliation. My hands shook as I clutched my bag, trying to make myself invisible.

"Slut!"

"Homewrecker. Josh deserves better."

As I wanted to sit down, something hit me on my shoulder. I looked down to see that it was crumpled paper that had been thrown.

"Hey, yo available for one night? Asking for a friend."

"Nah man, she's probably expensive after going viral."

I quickly sat down in my seat, my eyes burned with tears as I stared at the desk like it was the most favorite thing on earth. I traced the scratches in the wood with my finger, focusing on anything but the voices around me, the laughter, the cruel comments that kept coming.

When I couldn't take the stares and whispers anymore, I ran out of the class as the professor wanted to enter. I collided with him and fell on my ass. But that didn't stop the students from snickering. I quickly stood up and ran away with my bag clutched to my chest, ignoring the professor calling after me.

As I rounded the corner, I froze. There they were-Josh and Sophia, Mila, Tyler, and Brad with them. They were laughing at something on their phone and my stomach dropped.

Probably me.

Probably that video.

Sophia looked up, grinned, pulled Josh down. They kissed-long, sensual. My own twin sister kissing my ex-boyfriend, making sure I saw. She smirked directly at me-a cruel smile that said she'd won, that she'd always been the better twin.

And I swiftly turned around, my stomach turning as their mocking laughter followed me. Bile rose in my throat. I thought I might throw up right there in the hallway.

And show them an epic show of humiliation.

Then I heard Tyler jeer, "Damn, she actually showed up."

Why did I come here? What was I thinking? Would that things ever be normal again?

Humans were cruel.

I couldn't breathe, I could feel my heart constrict within the confinement of my ribcage. I needed air.

I ran to the little spot I had here in school, my only solace in this school, but I was stopped in my tracks, my breath hitched when I saw graffiti.

"Slut"

"Cheater"

"Whore"

There were even some crude images drawn on the wall. My hands shook as I stared at it, tears running down my face. The only person who knew this place was Sophia. My eyes stayed on the image, then my phone buzzed, pulling me out of my mental breakdown.

A message. "Please report to Dean Waterson's office immediately." My stomach twisted from the message, my throat bobbed with dread. I walked to the administration building. Every step felt like I was walking to my execution, my heart pounded so hard I thought it might burst from my chest.

As I reached the secretary, she looked at me with barely concealed disgust. "Dean Waterson is expecting you. Go right in."

I swallowed and opened the door to see a woman sitting behind a large desk-a middle-aged woman, professional, and her face cold and expressionless. She didn't even offer me a seat and slid a paper across the desk.

"I'm sure you know why you're here, Ms. Martinez," the woman said.

NOTICE OF EXPULSION in bold at the top of the paper. The words blurred in front of my eyes. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be real.

The Dean continued, "The video that has circulated depicts behavior unbecoming of a Silverwestern student." She readjusted her glasses. "You've tarnished the reputation of this institution." She cleared her throat. "We cannot allow students who engage in such activities to remain enrolled."

"Ma'am, I'm a final-" she raised her hands up sharply, cutting me off.

"That's not relevant to our decision," she said. "What matters is that your presence here has become disruptive." And she used her hands to make a steeple under her chin. "Students are uncomfortable. Parents are calling. We have to protect the integrity of Silverwestern University."

My voice shook. "This isn't fair-"

"Fair or not, the decision has been made," she injected coldly. "You have 48 hours to vacate campus housing and remove your belongings. Your student ID will be deactivated as of this afternoon." She said, "You're no longer a student here."

I stared at the paper in disbelief. "Can I appeal this?"

The Dean shook her head. "The decision is final. Sign the acknowledgement form at the bottom."

My hands shook as I took the pen she passed to me and signed it.

Dean took the form. "You may go," she said in cold dismissal.

I walked out of the office in a daze, the expulsion letter clutched in my hands. Three and a half years of college-gone. My degree was gone. My future was gone. All because of a video I didn't consent to. All because I'd trusted the wrong people. All because I'd been stupid enough to believe someone like me could be loved.

6

Rosie

A week after the expulsion. For a whole week, I've been trying to reverse the expulsion, searching online for anything that could make the school call off the expulsion.

Does that mean all my years of hard work had gone down the drain? But all the lawyers I've been seeing couldn't help me and I could feel helplessness and hopelessness creeping into my bones.

I even tried to call my father-maybe some of his connections could help-but I've been blocked off. I sat on the couch, scrolling through some feeds if I could find something, anything, as I cracked my neck, rubbing my eyes from straining and staring at the screen too much.

I've been home all day without anything to do and I've been feeling guilt for staying at Kira's apartment, sleeping on her couch and mooching off her food. That was why I tried to do the house chores even though Kira told me not to. But doing that would make my guilt lessen a little.

I stood up and went to the counter to pour myself a glass of water when a distressed voice from the ajar door stopped me on my way.

I didn't mean to eavesdrop but I couldn't stop listening because I heard my name.

"I know, I know..." she trailed off, running her hands through her hair. "Rosie just needs time." And I gulped. The water is long forgotten. "She's been through hell, okay?"

And my heart stuttered. Who was she talking to about me?

"I don't know how long, maybe a few more weeks?" A long pause, as worry etched her face and I bit my lower lip, "I can't just kick her out. Where would she go?" she said.

I could feel the guilt creeping in. I'd overstayed my welcome. I was uncomfortable in her own apartment but Kira was too nice to send me away.

"Her parents disowned her. She's got nothing." Another long pause and exasperated sigh, her voice sounding defensive. "It's not like that... She's my friend." Kira pinched the bridge of her nose. "Fine. Yes. I'll talk to her. Soon."

My stomach sank. Kira was defending me, and was having disagreements with someone because of me. Was it her boyfriend or parent? Maybe roommate, but the last time I asked, Kira responded she lived alone. Either way, I was causing problems as usual, ruining Kira's life too.

Everyone I touched got destroyed. I was a walking harbinger of ruin. When won't Kira be tired of me also? It was just a matter of time before Kira saw that I was dragging her into the rabbit hole.

When I noticed the call conversation had diverted to another thing, I walked back to the couch. I couldn't even drink water again because if I did, I was very sure I would puke it out. After some minutes, Kira came out of the room acting normal, with that warm smile on her face as if someone didn't just talk about me inconveniencing her on the phone.

"Rosie," she called and slumped beside me. "Whatcha doing?" she said, picking up the TV remote.

I swallowed, willing my voice not to give out that I'd eavesdropped on her call. "Just surfing the internet," I responded, not looking at her.

"Okay, what movie should we watch?" she asked and I looked at Kira. I could see the strain in her body language and exhaustion under her eyes. Since I had been staying at Kira's place, she had picked up another part-time job because of me.

I had to leave. I couldn't burden Kira with my issues anymore.

But where could I go?

After finishing the movie, that happened in absolute silence except the noises from the TV, both of us lost in thought.

Kira stood up and checked the wall clock. "Shit! I'm late for my work," she cursed, running to her room to pick up her slung bag.

"Bye. Later. Don't cook, I'll bring dinner," she said and ran out of the front door.

"Okay," I smiled sadly. Kira was a good friend, a friend anyone could pray for. If Kira hadn't come along when the incident happened, I was very sure I'd have killed myself.

I didn't have much... I never had much except excess body fat and baggage of problems. When I was done packing inside the duffel bag, I tore a sticky note as tears welled in my eyes.

"Thank you for everything. I'm sorry. Don't worry about me. - Rosie"

I rubbed my nose to stop the watering mucus from coming out as I left the note on the coffee table. I took one last look at the apartment. And a sad smile found its way to my lips.

I walked around aimlessly, looking for a sign for a cheap motel to stay the night. My account had been confiscated, thanks to my savings, saving my life now. I paid for the night and entered the room. I nearly recoiled from disgust-dingy room, stained carpet, even cobwebs-but it was mine for the night and wasn't a burden. I dusted the bed, changed the blanket and flopped on it. I stared at the cracked ceiling thinking on what to do next before my phone buzzed.

I glanced and saw a call from Kira but didn't answer. What would I tell her? Nothing.

Then a text came in. "Where are you?? Your note scared me. Please call."

Another followed after some minutes.

"Rosie, please. Just let me know you're okay."

I could feel my eyes sting and I turned my phone off before curling into a ball on the bed to keep myself safe.

I was spiraling. I knew it, I could feel it. I've used three days in this motel and I barely ate, just surviving on crackers and vending machine food. Noises from other rooms didn't let me sleep-moans, grunts, arguments, things breaking. The walls were so thin that I had to stay up at night sometimes, listening to other people's lives playing out around me. And whenever I tried to sleep in the afternoon, the music played at the bar below kept me awake.

Headache, sleep deprivation and hunger were eating me alive. My mental health waning away.

And sometimes, I scrolled through job positions yet every application asked for education and references which I didn't have. And the coffee cafe that would take me in was around the campus area and I couldn't go there to give them more to antagonize me further.

I watched the video every day, read the comments. You can call me a masochist.

But what was the point again?

What was the point of me struggling for the inevitable? What was the point of me being here? No one wants me. I don't even want myself. No one wants to listen. No one wants justice for me. No one... no one.

Maybe I should just end it?

Maybe it would stop the pain deep in my heart, my head and everywhere.

Maybe if I end it, people would feel remorseful. My parents would want my dead body. Sophia would finally feel guilty for what she'd done to her twin sister.

Maybe then I'd find peace.

I didn't know when I walked out of the motel, stopping a cab. I told the driver to stop at the bridge and the driver looked at me like I was high but I didn't wait for him before getting down and passed him the bill. I trailed to the bridge rim, looking at the sea. The night was cold as the wind cut through my thin jacket, yet I didn't feel it.

I stared down at the blue sea. Below was nothing. It would be quick. It would be over before I knew it. I gripped the edge tighter. There won't be shame, pain and being a burden anymore.

It'll be over soon.

I closed my eyes, took a step further. My life flashed behind my eyelids-the smell of my house, my parents' proud look, Sophia's cruel laughter, the students' crude comments, Josh's betrayal, my mother's words. Everything was ringing in my head. As I took another step, warm amber eyes flashed and my eyes flew open.

And I was grabbed from behind, away from the railing. That's when I noticed the cab driver was the one who pulled me away. If he was a minute late, I would have died. The realization made my chest rise heavily, inhaling air hungrily. My body trembled tremendously as a broken sob tore through me.

What was I thinking?!

"Fuck! I knew it!" the driver said, voice shaking. "My gut feeling never proves me wrong." The driver shook me and pulled me from the ground toward the car.

He opened the back door, pushed me inside, then got in the driver's seat. He turned up the heat and handed me a warm flask from his cup holder.

"I don't know what you are going through, but suicide is not the answer." His voice was warm and kind. "It might be hard to live through it now but I know it will be better, just persevere. There is always light after the darkness, the longest tunnel."

I clutched the flask, letting the warmth seep into my frozen fingers.

"And if it's too much sometimes, you can move away, get fresh air and start again. Don't give your demons the laughter that they achieved what they want." He turned to look at me. "Prove them wrong even if it means moving away for some time to recuperate yourself." he smiled warmly, "But never forget to make them pay for every tear they exert from you."

7

Rosie

The driver's words latched onto me as I sat on the bathroom floor in the motel. Where did I want to go, and how could I get back at them? Do I have the guts to retaliate?

I rubbed my face, my hands still cold and white, still relishing the earlier suicide attempt. If the driver hadn't pulled me back, would I have gone?

God! I shivered. I didn't want to think about that again.

My eyes fluttered closed, then warm amber eyes flashed beneath my eyelids, and my breath hitched. I've gotten my answer.

I was going back to Highland Creek where no one knows me or my past... start again, then after that I'd come back and shove it in their faces.

Sophia.

Josh.

My parents.

And myself.

I needed to prove it to myself most of all. That I wasn't weak. That I wasn't broken beyond repair. That I could save myself.

I stood up from the floor, patted my jeans as I entered the shaggy motel room and started packing my clothes in the duffel bag. I had a destination. A place to look forward to.

I checked out of the motel, strolled down to the ATM machine to withdraw everything remaining in my account. I've noticed my parents have cut my trust fund.

They really didn't want anything to do with me.

I couldn't wait any longer as I took the last bus to Highland Creek. It was pure luck that made me snag this bus before it left.

I walked to the last row and sat quietly at the window side, hugging my duffel bag as I stared out of the window, staring at the snow falling. I sighed out, fog coming out from my mouth as I rubbed my shoulders from the cold with my mittened hands.

Hours of traveling, my mind was blank and my brain was empty, nothing to process, as I pressed my forehead against the cold window and tried not to think about it. I tried to focus on the passing scenery, even though there was nothing to watch in the darkness.

Relief flooded through me when I saw the green signboard of Highland Creek and I sighed. I've made it. I was here to start afresh. People started to get down from the bus and I got down also.

Although I didn't know anywhere to go, I was lost, new and hungry in a new town. I was only here once during the Christmas holiday. And the destination was already planned and known, but not now.

I walked around aimlessly to find a motel to sleep for the night. The streets were empty, the shops were closed and I brought my phone out to see the time. 10:47 PM.

It was too late. Well, no one would be open now. As I wanted to give up-maybe sleep outside this night inside the snow and cold, maybe hypothermia would take pity on me and take my useless body.

But my eyes caught a small building. The lights were still on and I breathed out in relief and hurried there. I could feel my teeth chattering from the cold. I walked closer to see Moonbone Café in faded letters and an "OPEN" sign glowing in the window.

I cried in relief. The place was open and I was happy. At least I would get heat, warmth and something to eat. My coat was wet from the cold, and I stumbled to the café door, my hands shaking so hard that I could barely turn the handle. The bell chimed as I pushed inside. Warmth enveloped me and I exhaled. The smell of fresh bread made my stomach grumble and my knees nearly gave out from walking too much.

I stared at the young woman behind the counter. She looked like she was in her early twenties, her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail and her brown eyes widened as she saw me... which made her stop wiping down the espresso machine.

The woman came around, worry already etched on her face. "Oh my God, are you okay?" the woman asked as she came to me and guided me to the nearest table. "Sit down. You're soaked through."

I appreciated the woman's kindness and collapsed into the chair. My legs were shaking as I shivered, my teeth chattering. I couldn't speak. My eyes stung from everything.

The young woman looked at me again and disappeared into the back door, then returned with a towel. She draped it around my shoulders.

"I'm Maya," she said gently, "Hold on, let me get you something warm." Maya went back to the counter and operated the machine, then returned with a large mug of coffee, steam rising as she pushed it in front of me.

"On the house. Drink."

And I nodded. I couldn't say anything or even thank her. I wrapped my hands around the mug. Warmth seeped into my frozen fingers. I took a sip and quickly removed it because it was scalding hot, but I needed it to blow off the cold in my body.

Maya sat across from me, staring at me yet didn't say or ask anything, which I was grateful for. After sipping, feeling warmth within, "Are you passing through?" she asked.

My voice came out hoarse. "I... I don't know," I answered truthfully. I just made the decision to come to this town, yet I've not thought it through.

As if Maya noticed the expression on my face, she gave me a small knowing smile. "You need a place to stay?"

I looked up in surprise, like she could read me. "Yeah, it's true," I responded quietly, "but I don't have much money..." I dropped my head down.

"My parents own a cottage on the edge of town. Small, but it's got heat and a bed," she explained. "Usually rent it to tourists, but it's empty in winter."

My throat tightened with emotion. Just this night, two people had shown me kindness. "I really don't have-"

"You can pay what you can, when you can. Small amounts. No pressure."

"But you don't know me?" my voice cracked as my eyes shone with gratitude.

"Right now you look like you need rest more than anything." Maya leaned back, her brow scrunched thoughtfully. "Actually, we could use help here," she said, gesturing at the café. "Nothing fancy - serving coffee, clearing tables. Some light baking if you're up for it, though the pay isn't amazing, but it's steady. Plus tips," she paused uncertain. "You interested?" she added, unsure if I'd accept.

"Why are you helping me?" the question came out before I could stop it.

Maya's expression softened. "Because you look like you need it and I want to help you," she smiled.

I tried to speak but nothing came out. I've not even introduced myself to her as tears came rushing out and I just nodded.

Maya smiled gently. "Good. That's settled then." She stood up. "Let me close up and I'll take you to the cottage." She turned to me. "Have you eaten?" and I shook my head.

"I'll pack you something," Maya said and disappeared into the back door again. Maya returned with a takeout bag. "Leftover soup, some bread," she handed it to me.

We walked out together. Maya locked the front door, flipped the sign to CLOSED and turned off the lights, leaving only the Christmas lights glowing. She grabbed her keys and coat. "My truck's out back. Follow me."

I clutched the food bag like my life depended on it as we strode to her truck.

It's about five minutes from here," Maya said as she started the engine. We rode in comfortable silence as I ate the bread and soup. It was the best thing I've tasted in days as warmth spread through me and tears welled up in my eyes.

God!

Maya turned off Main Street onto a side road. Trees on either side, light snow now falling from the sky. The cottage was isolated.

"Here we are." She turned off the truck, walked to the door and unlocked it. She flipped on the light. It was small and cozy. A living area with a couch and fireplace. Tiny kitchen in the corner. A bedroom door to the right, bathroom to the left. Everything looked clean and simple.

"Firewood's stacked outside. Matches on the mantel," she pointed. "Hot water works fine." Then she turned to leave. "Get some sleep. You look dead on your feet," she said. "You can come by the café when you're comfortable and we'll talk about the details." She walked to the door. "And don't worry about the rent. Seriously."

As she reached the door, I stopped her. "Maya?" and Maya turned.

"Thank you. I... thank you," I stumbled out, rubbing my arm nervously.

Maya's gaze softened and she smiled. "Welcome to Highland Creek..." she trailed off and paused. "Sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"I'm Rosie."

"Welcome, Rosie. Get some rest." And the door shut behind her. I stood in the middle of the cottage, listening to Maya's truck drive away. The engine faded into the distance. Silence settled around me.