Chapter Twenty-Three: BULLYING WORSENS
1246 Words
Xenia
Three days.
It had been three days since Diana visited the estate.
Three days since she’d looked me in the eyes and told me I would never be part of their family.
Three days since she’d reminded me that Mr. Winslie still loved Stephanie.
Three days.
Yet somehow her words followed me everywhere.
Into lectures.
Into my dorm room.
Into my sleep.
I hated that.
Because I knew she was wrong.
Or at least I wanted to believe she was.
I wasn’t trying to replace Stephanie.
I wasn’t trying to become anything.
I was just Kira’s nanny.
That should have been enough.
So why couldn’t I stop thinking about it?
I sighed and adjusted the heavy stack of textbooks in my arms.
The university courtyard buzzed with students.
Some sat beneath trees.
Some hurried toward classes.
Others laughed with friends.
Normal.
Everything looked normal.
Unfortunately, my university wasn’t.
At least not for me.
Not anymore.
The bullying had gotten worse this semester.
Much worse.
At first it had only been whispers.
Mocking my accent.
Laughing when I mixed up words.
Correcting my grammar in exaggerated voices.
Then came the jokes.
The nicknames.
The videos secretly recorded during presentations.
Now it felt like they weren’t even trying to hide it.
I kept my head down.
The sooner I got to class, the better.
“Look.”
A familiar voice.
My stomach immediately tightened.
I didn’t need to turn around.
I already knew who it was.
Chloe Harrington.
Rich.
Beautiful.
Popular.
Cruel.
The queen of making other people’s lives miserable.
Her group of friends stood nearby.
Watching.
Waiting.
Like vultures.
“Good morning, Xenia.”
The fake sweetness in her voice made my skin crawl.
I continued walking.
A mistake.
Apparently.
Because Chloe stepped directly in front of me.
Blocking my path.
I stopped.
Slowly.
“What do you want?”
Her eyebrows lifted.
“Oh.”
She laughed.
“Your English is improving.”
Several of her friends laughed.
Heat crept into my cheeks.
Ignore them.
Just ignore them.
I tightened my grip on my books.
“I have class.”
“So do we.”
Nobody moved.
The path remained blocked.
Wonderful.
Absolutely wonderful.
Chloe tilted her head.
“You know what I heard?”
I remained silent.
She smiled.
“I heard you’re living in some millionaire’s mansion.”
My heart skipped.
How did she know that?
The smile widened.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
She’d noticed my reaction.
“Damn.”
One of her friends laughed.
“It was true.”
I looked away.
Wrong move.
Because Chloe stepped closer.
“Tell me something.”
Silence.
“How exactly did you manage that?”
My chest tightened.
“I work there.”
“Sure.”
The word dripped with disbelief.
“I’m his nanny.”
Several students nearby were watching now.
Not helping.
Just watching.
As usual.
Chloe crossed her arms.
“A nanny.”
“Yes.”
“For a rich military officer.”
“Yes.”
“Who lets you travel with his family.”
I didn’t answer.
The silence was enough.
The smirk returned.
“Oh my God.”
One of her friends laughed.
“That’s actually pathetic.”
I frowned.
“What is?”
“You expect us to believe that?”
Laughter.
More laughter.
Everywhere.
I hated this.
I hated all of it.
“I’m going to class.”
I tried stepping around them.
Chloe grabbed my wrist.
Not hard.
But enough.
The courtyard suddenly felt very quiet.
My anxiety immediately spiked.
I hated when people touched me unexpectedly.
Especially during moments like this.
“Let go.”
The words came out smaller than intended.
Chloe smiled.
“Or what?”
I looked around.
Nobody moved.
Nobody helped.
Nobody cared.
The familiar feeling returned.
The helplessness.
The humiliation.
The loneliness.
Then Chloe released my wrist.
For one brief moment, I thought it was over.
I was wrong.
Very wrong.
The slap happened so quickly I barely registered it.
Crack.
The sound echoed.
My head jerked sideways.
Pain exploded across my cheek.
The books slipped from my arms and crashed onto the pavement.
Silence.
Complete silence.
For one second.
Two.
Three.
My face burned.
My eyes watered immediately.
Not because of the pain.
Because of the humiliation.
The absolute humiliation.
Shock rooted me to the spot.
I stared at the ground.
Unable to process what had just happened.
Then came laughter.
Soft at first.
Then louder.
My vision blurred.
No.
No.
Don’t cry.
Not here.
Not in front of them.
Please.
Anything but that.
Chloe crouched slightly.
Mock concern.
Fake concern.
Cruel concern.
“Aw.”
She smiled.
“Are you going to cry?”
I couldn’t speak.
The lump in my throat was too large.
Too painful.
Too humiliating.
The smile widened.
Then she grabbed a bottle of water from one of her friends.
For a brief second I thought she was finally going to leave.
Instead—
Splash.
Ice-cold water drenched my hair.
My clothes.
My books.
Everything.
The bottle clattered onto the pavement.
Gasps erupted around us.
Even some of her friends looked surprised.
The water dripped down my face.
My white hair stuck to my skin.
My sweater clung to my body.
The cold hit immediately.
Students stared.
Everyone stared.
Nobody moved.
Nobody helped.
Nobody said anything.
The humiliation was worse than the slap.
Much worse.
Because now everyone was looking.
Every single person.
I wanted the ground to swallow me whole.
Right now.
Immediately.
Chloe tilted her head.
“You look better.”
More laughter.
Then she turned.
And walked away.
Just like that.
Her friends followed.
Still laughing.
Still smiling.
Still pleased with themselves.
Leaving me standing there.
Alone.
Soaked.
Humiliated.
Broken.
For several moments, I couldn’t move.
Couldn’t breathe.
Couldn’t think.
Then slowly I crouched down.
Picked up my books.
Most were ruined.
Wonderful.
Absolutely wonderful.
A shadow appeared beside me.
I froze.
A student.
One I’d never spoken to before.
He awkwardly held out a handkerchief.
“I…”
He looked uncomfortable.
Embarrassed.
“I think you dropped this.”
My notebook.
I stared.
Then accepted it.
“Thank you.”
The words came out barely above a whisper.
He nodded once.
Then left.
The interaction lasted less than ten seconds.
Yet somehow it felt like the kindest thing anyone had done for me all day.
My eyes burned.
Again.
No.
Not here.
Not now.
I forced myself to stand.
Then I walked.
One step.
Then another.
Then another.
Until I reached the nearest bathroom.
The second the door locked behind me, I finally broke.
Tears spilled instantly.
The kind you try holding back for too long.
The kind that hurt.
I slid down against the wall.
My wet clothes felt freezing.
My cheek still stung.
My chest ached.
And for the first time in months…
I felt tired.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
Tired of trying.
Tired of smiling.
Tired of pretending things didn’t hurt.
Tired of being the girl everyone laughed at.
The girl with the accent.
The girl who never fought back.
The girl people thought they could humiliate because she wouldn’t do anything.
And somewhere far away, completely unaware of what had happened, Kira was probably drawing pictures or counting the days until Friday.
Mr. Winslie was probably working.
The world continued moving.
Normal.
Unchanged.
While I sat alone on a bathroom floor trying to stop crying.
And for the first time since moving to New York…
I felt completely alone.
- Writer
