003
1314 Words
Ayla's POV.
I couldn’t move.
I was still stuck.
My heart thudded so loud it drowned out the laughter. The glue had spread across the back of my jeans like it had been poured there by the gallon. Thick. Cold. Clingy. The longer I stayed, the worse it got. I pulled again, hard enough to rip skin, but it was no use. I was welded to the chair like it was some kind of sick punishment throne.
They were still laughing. Still watching. Like this was a damn circus.
I couldn’t breathe.
A second later, the door swung open.
Mr. Harrows walked in, carrying his old brown satchel and a cup of coffee like it was just another Tuesday.
Then he saw me.
He froze.
The classroom went quiet for one heartbeat...just one...and then the whispers came back, quieter now but still sharp enough to slice through me.
“Miss Ayla,” he said, blinking like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Are you…?”
“I can’t get up,” I choked. My voice sounded like it had been dragged through gravel. “Someone put glue on my chair.”
More laughter. Stifled this time. Covered by hands. But it was there.
“Oh, for heaven’s...” Mr. Harrows pinched the bridge of his nose, already tired of it. “Alright. Don’t move. Stay right there.”
Like I had a choice.
He walked out, muttering something under his breath. I could feel every eye in the room burning into me. I stared straight ahead, blinking fast, willing the tears not to fall. I could still hear them behind me...snickers, coughs meant to hide giggles, Celeste whispering loudly enough for the whole room to hear, “She should’ve just sat on the floor with the rest of the dogs.”
I dug my nails into my palms.
Five minutes later, Mr. Harrows came back...with two janitors trailing behind him. One was this older guy with a limp and a walkie-talkie clipped to his belt. The other was younger, maybe in his twenties, tall, chewing gum like he didn’t care about anything.
They stopped when they saw me.
“You’re kidding,” the younger one muttered.
“Glue,” Mr. Harrows confirmed, pointing. “Chair’s ruined. We’re going to need to...”
“I can’t just rip her off,” the older janitor said, frowning. “That stuff’ll tear the fabric. And probably her skin.”
The younger one shrugged. “Guess we take the whole chair.”
What?
“No...wait...” I started, but it was too late.
They were already moving. I felt one of them grab the bottom of the chair while the other steadied the top. I was still stuck. Still frozen.
“This is gonna feel weird,” one of them said. “Count to three.”
“I...”
“One...”
They yanked.
The whole chair came with me.
Laughter exploded around the room.
Not quiet this time. Loud. Cruel. Unfiltered.
“Oh my god,” someone shouted. “They’re actually carrying her out!”
“She’s part of the chair now,” another voice laughed.
Mr. Harrows barked, “Enough!”
But it didn’t matter.
Because there I was...being carried out of the classroom like I was furniture. My face was on fire. My chest was tight. My arms trembled as I gripped the sides of the glued-down seat.
The hallway outside was mercifully empty, but that didn’t make it any better. My dignity was still shredded into confetti behind me.
“We’re taking you to the maintenance room,” the older janitor said. “Only place with proper solvents.”
“Can’t she just take the pants off?” the younger one asked. “Wouldn’t that be faster?”
I wanted the floor to swallow me whole.
“I...no...I can’t...”
“We’ll get someone,” Mr. Harrows said stiffly. “Female staff. Just hang in there, Ayla.”
Hang in there. Right.
By the time we reached the end of the hallway, two female school workers were waiting. One of them was Nurse Brina, kind-eyed but nervous, and the other was Miss Claude from the front office, already shaking her head.
“Oh, honey…” Nurse Brina said softly. “We’re gonna have to...look, I’m sorry, sweetie...but those pants have to come off. There’s no way around it.”
I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood.
They brought me into a small backroom...bare, dusty, shelves packed with old cleaning supplies...and closed the door.
“We’ll keep your top on,” Miss Claude said quickly. “But you need to let us help you out of those jeans.”
I wanted to scream. I wanted to fight. But I was so tired. So damn tired.
I just nodded.
Tears slipped down my face as they helped me unbutton my jeans, holding the chair steady. I shut my eyes tight, humiliated beyond anything I’d ever felt. The jeans peeled slowly...glue clinging, stretching, then finally snapping free.
By the time they were off, my legs were red and raw. The jeans were ruined. Covered in dried glue and ripped at the seams. One of the women dumped them straight into a trash bag.
Nurse Brina handed me something.
“Here,” she said gently. “Only thing we had in the emergency locker. Lost and found didn’t have anything in your size.”
It was a pair of janitor work pants.
Men’s. Huge. Baggy. Grey. Faded.
I put them on with shaking hands. They sagged awkwardly at the waist, cinched with a string of tape, legs bunched around my sneakers. I looked like I was playing dress-up in my dad’s clothes. As if I had one.
When I stepped back into the hallway, dragging my ruined pride with me, the bell rang for second period.
Perfect timing.
I walked back to class like a ghost. My head was down. My cheeks burned.
The second I stepped in, they saw me.
And then…
Laughter.
Again.
Celeste cackled so loud she had to lean on her desk. “Did they lose her pants? Oh my god. Look at her. She’s wearing trash man pants!”
Vee whistled. “Ayla the Janitor. Has a nice ring to it.”
Mr. Harrows slammed his hand on his desk. “Enough!”
The room went quiet. But the damage was done.
They were still grinning. Still whispering. Even with the teacher’s glare drilling into them, they couldn’t help themselves.
And me?
I just stood there.
For a second, I thought about running. Just bolting out the door, out of the school, out of this damn town.
But I didn’t.
I walked to my seat. The one that had betrayed me. The chair was gone now...replaced with a plastic one. Like none of it had ever happened.
I sat down slowly, the oversized pants rustling around me.
I kept my eyes down, hands clenched in my lap, body stiff.
And that’s when it hit me.
They didn’t just laugh because of what happened.
They laughed because they could.
Because no one would stop them.
Because I was easy.
I was Ayla.
The cursed girl. The broken mate. The girl no one wanted to claim. Not even the moon goddess.
Even my wolf had gone quiet...curled somewhere deep inside me, small and ashamed.
She didn’t come forward.
She didn’t say anything.
Just let me sit there in silence while the classroom moved on like I wasn’t still drowning.
I sat there for the next hour, barely hearing the lesson. Barely moving. Barely anything.
I didn’t even realize I was still shaking until I dropped my pen.
No one offered to pick it up.
Of course they didn’t.
No one looked at me. Not really.
They just looked through me.
Like I was less than invisible.
Like I was already gone.
- Writer
