Her laughter, once bright and full, became softer, guarded.
She stopped going to parties.
Stopped answering Dylan’s texts.
Stopped meeting Ryan and Zoe after classes.
She wanted to call elena, to say sorry.
But every time her fingers hovered over Elena’s number, she froze.
Maybe Elena didn’t want to hear from her.
Maybe she deserved the silence.
So she let it be.
And yet… Dylan never really went away.
He was everywhere, not close enough to accuse, but near enough to feel.
In the cafeteria line, at the far end of the hall, leaning against his car by the main gate, pretending to scroll through his phone.
Always looking. Always smiling that polite, empty smile.
Amara told herself she was imagining it. That she was overthinking.
But then came the little things.
A rose slipped into her locker.
A note in handwriting she didn’t recognize: “You looked beautiful today.”
Her dorm door left slightly ajar, though she swore she’d locked it.
Amara would glance up and see him, leaning against a wall, eyes on her.
That same calm smile, that same cold stillness.
Once, she told Zoe.
Zoe just laughed. “You’re reading too much into it, babe. Dylan’s just… Dylan. He flirts with everyone. Don’t make it weird.”
But it was weird.
It was wrong.
Every night, Amara locked her door twice.
Every shadow felt like it had eyes.
Every footstep in the hall made her heart race.
She began writing letters she would never send, to Elena.
Letters full of apologies and words she should have said.
She wrote them because it made her feel like Elena was still there, like someone still believed in her.
One of them read:
“You were right about him. About everything. I just didn’t want to admit it. I thought he was different. I was wrong.”
She folded it and tucked it inside her journal.
That night, a knock came at her door.
Three short knocks.
She froze.
When she finally looked through the peephole, no one was there.
But under the door, a single rose had been slipped through, crimson, fresh, and heavy with perfume.
Her hands shook as she picked it up.
There was a note attached.
“Don’t ignore me again, Amara.”
Her breath hitched.
She wanted to run.
She wanted to call Elena.
But she didn’t.
Instead, she locked the door again, crawled under her blanket, and whispered into the dark.
Comments (0)
See all