LOVE LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO

Here is the story you requested: *LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO* My name is Amara. I'm 17. And I swear I wasn't always like this. Before you, I was the good girl. The one teachers trusted to hold the key to the class. The one who never missed homework. The one who sat in front in chapel and wrote notes neatly. Then you came in SS2 second term. Daniel. You didn't even do anything special at first. You were just transferred from Federal Government College, you wore your uniform like you didn't care, you sat at the back, you smiled at everybody and you were good at football. Every girl in SS3 liked you. But you looked at me once in the library when I was reading, and you said "You read like you are angry at the book" and you laughed. That was it. That was all you needed to do. I fell stupidly, completely in love with you. The kind of love that makes a 17-year-old girl check her phone 100 times. The kind that makes you save his name as "D ❤️" even though he never asked you out. We started talking. You would sit with me during break. You would ask me to help you with Chemistry. You told me about your mom, about how you wanted to study engineering. You made me feel special. And I thought maybe, maybe you liked me too. Then in SS3, Sarah came. Sarah Okon. Pretty Sarah. New hair every Monday. Perfect lip gloss that the principal somehow never seized. She was in the same tutorial group with you for JAMB lessons. Suddenly you weren't sitting with me during break. You were sitting with her. Laughing louder. You were walking her to the bus stop after school. I asked you one day, after class, "So you and Sarah now?" And you said, "Amara, we are just friends. Why are you acting like my girlfriend?" Why was I acting like your girlfriend? Because I loved you. Because I had imagined our future. Because I thought if I was good enough, quiet enough, helpful enough, you would choose me. That night I cried till my eyes swelled. And something ugly grew inside me. Jealousy. It doesn't look ugly at first. It looks like love. It says "If I remove the obstacle, he will see me." Our school was preparing for the valedictorian award and university scholarship. It was between me, Sarah, and one other boy. Sarah was ahead of me by 0.5 points. The final decision would be based on our mock WAEC results and conduct. I knew Sarah kept her diary in her locker. Everyone knew her locker code - 1234, because she said it was easy to remember. I also knew she had been talking to a boy from another school on w******p, and her parents were very strict and would seize her phone if they knew. The bad thing I did - I did it in 15 minutes during long break. I went to the staff room when no one was there. Our class teacher, Mrs. Eze, left her phone on the table charging. She always left it unlocked. I had seen her password before. I took pictures of Sarah's mock exam answer sheet that was on Mrs. Eze's table for marking. Then I went to Sarah's locker, opened it, took her diary. I didn't just take it. I tore out two pages where she wrote about that boy from the other school and where she wrote some bad words about Mrs. Eze. I took those pages to the principal's office and dropped them on the floor near the door, like they fell. Then I went back and I did the worst part. I copied Sarah's handwriting - I had practiced it for weeks because I admired her handwriting - and I wrote a small note on a piece of paper and slipped it into Sarah's mock exam sheet: "Mrs. Eze, thanks for the help. I will pay you the balance after. - Sarah" I wanted them to think she bribed Mrs. Eze. I wanted them to disqualify her. I wanted her to be suspended, embarrassed, gone. So you would have no one else to sit with. Look what you made me do, Daniel. I, Amara, who never cheated in my life, became a thief, a liar, a forger in one break time. It worked. Too well. Mrs. Eze found the note. She was furious and took it to the principal. The principal found the diary pages. They called Sarah to the office. Sarah was crying, saying she never wrote that note, saying someone stole her diary. They didn't believe her. They called her parents. Her mother slapped her in front of everyone in the principal's office. They suspended her for two weeks for "exam malpractice and insulting a teacher." She lost the chance for valedictorian. The whole school was talking. "Sarah don cast." "She dey bribe teacher." I should have felt happy. You were free. You started sitting with me again because Sarah was not there. But you weren't happy. You were angry. You came to me one afternoon and said, "Amara, you know Sarah would never do that. Someone set her up. Who hates her that much?" I acted shocked. I said, "I don't know. Maybe it's true." You looked at me for a long time. And you said, "You have changed." That was when I realized love had not made you love me. It had made me become someone I hated. Sarah came back after two weeks, quiet. She no longer did her fine hair. She sat alone. She avoided everyone. When our eyes met in the hallway, she didn't say anything. She just looked at me like she knew. Maybe girls always know. On graduation day, I won valedictorian. I stood on the stage with a medal they gave me. My mother was clapping, crying. Principal was smiling. And I was looking at Sarah in the third row, with her head down, and I felt nothing but shame. The medal felt like it was burning my neck. After graduation, I went to her. I said, "Sarah, can we talk?" She said, "I know it was you, Amara. Your handwriting. You tried to copy mine but you dot your i's with a circle. You always do." I started crying. I told her everything. I said, "I did it because I loved Daniel. I thought if you were gone he would like me. Look what love made me do." She didn't shout. She just said, "That wasn't love, Amara. That was wickedness. Love doesn't make you destroy someone else. You destroyed me because you wanted a boy who never even liked you like that." She was right. Daniel never asked me out. He left for university in Lagos. He follows Sarah on i********:. They are friends. I wrote Sarah a letter and I told the principal the truth two months ago. They took back my valedictorian award. My mother didn't talk to me for three weeks. I deserved it. I am 17 and I learned that love is not an excuse to do evil. If you love someone and you have to become a bad person to get them, then it was never love. It was obsession. And obsession will make you burn down your own house just to keep someone warm. If you are a girl reading this, and you like a boy who likes someone else, don't do what I did. Let him go. Let her be. Keep your hands clean. Because in the end, the boy will leave, but the bad thing you did will stay with you. Look what I made myself do.