Chapter 4
872 Words
Rebecca stayed quiet for exactly three days.
Then Crestmore Confessions published a long post titled I'm Being Targeted by My Sick Roommate.
The post claimed that I had become emotionally unstable after my health screening, attacked Rebecca's appearance, sabotaged her election, and ruined her reputation.
It also claimed that I sat upright in bed without speaking in the middle of the night, frightening everyone in the room so badly that they couldn't sleep.
A copy of my screening report was attached. The redactions were sloppy. Half my name was covered, while my academic program, class section, and examination details remained visible.
People quickly guessed who it was about.
A: [This is about Amelia Dawson, right?]
B: [Wasn't she the girl who called Rebecca out for editing her pictures?]
C: [Using an illness as a shield is disgusting.]
Rebecca posted in the class group chat.
Rebecca: Please don't attack Amelia. She hasn't been well lately, and she may genuinely be struggling to control her emotions.
Rebecca: I only hope she realizes that hurting other people is still wrong.
With those two messages, she had put a label on me.
She wasn't insulting me outright. She was telling everyone what to think of me.
She painted me as unstable and aggressive, someone everyone should keep their distance from.
That evening, Denise called me into her office.
Rebecca was already there with swollen eyes. Chloe and Natalie sat beside her.
Chloe said, "Ms. Howard, we're honestly scared at night."
Natalie lowered her head. "The way Amelia looks at us lately is frightening."
Rebecca dabbed at her tears. "I don't want to blame her. I'm only afraid she'll keep bottling everything up until something terrible happens."
Denise sighed. "Tomorrow evening, we're holding a class meeting about mental health. The four of you will explain everything in front of the class."
She turned to me. "Amelia, Rebecca has already said she's willing to forgive you. Keep your tone calm, and don't upset your roommates again."
I looked at Rebecca. She lowered her head to wipe away her tears, but the corner of her mouth lifted almost imperceptibly.
I nodded. "All right."
That night, I returned to the dorm early. Once I drew my privacy curtain, Rebecca assumed I was asleep.
She and Chloe lowered their voices and rehearsed what they would say at the meeting the next day.
My phone lay beside my pillow, its red recording light glowing through the night.
The classroom was packed the next day, and Rebecca spoke first.
She wore a plain jacket that made her look pale and fragile.
"I admit that I can be tactless, but I never meant to hurt Amelia. She's been unwell, so I've always gone easy on her. Even when she attacked me again and again, I was too afraid of upsetting her to say anything harsh."
When she finished, she played a recording of my voice.
"If she makes another joke about my illness, I won't let it go. If she touches my belongings again, I'll confront her. If she runs for the position, I'll tell Ms. Howard about the fraudulent sign-in. If she acts sweet in front of Ethan, I won't cover for her either."
The clips had been neatly edited. Every bit of context was gone, making it sound as though I had been planning revenge all along.
Then she played a secretly recorded video that made me look hostile and aggressive.
"Don't touch my things. Say that one more time."
Once again, everything leading up to those lines had been cut. I came across as the aggressor.
Whispers rippled through the classroom.
Still crying, Rebecca pulled out a sheet of paper. "I don't want to take this any further. If Amelia signs this statement and admits that her emotional issues caused her to lash out at me, I'm willing to forgive her."
Denise turned to me. "Amelia, what do you have to say?"
I stood, and Rebecca held the paper out to me.
I looked at Rebecca and smiled. In that moment, I knew for certain that she wasn't simply careless with her words. She was deliberately setting me up as unstable.
She wanted everyone to see me as sensitive, difficult, and unreliable, as though nothing I said could be trusted.
That way, even if I produced evidence later, people would hesitate before believing me.
I hadn't suddenly become cruel. I had simply stopped making excuses for their malice.
I took a flash drive from my bag. "Ms. Howard, I brought something too."
A folder appeared on the computer screen titled Rebecca's Wellness Ambassador Application Materials.
Rebecca's composure finally cracked.
I opened the first audio file, and Rebecca's voice came through the speakers.
"The lump actually works in our favor. If she breaks down, everyone will think she's crazy. I've already called her mother. Once Ms. Howard contacts the family, her mom will panic. Tomorrow night, I'll hand her the statement. If she signs it, she admits she has emotional problems. If she refuses, that proves she's aggressive. We should get Student Affairs to flag her as a safety concern. Then who would risk giving her another scholarship? I get the Wellness Ambassador title, and she gets a counseling record."
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