The Revelation of my true self

I couldn't believe I had slapped someone. It felt surreal, like I was being controlled by something outside of myself. As I stormed off, I heard footsteps approaching quickly behind me. I didn't bother looking back—I wasn't in the mood to deal with anyone. My anger was simmering, and whoever it was would have to face it if they insisted on following me.

The figure hurried ahead and blocked my path, holding out a small black Louis Vuitton bag. A smug expression stretched across her face, making my blood boil.

"Liora… um, I think you'll need this," she said, her voice dripping with fake kindness. She was striking—dressed in cream pants with a chain dangling from the pocket and a kinky shirt layered under an expensive leather jacket, looking far too pleased with herself. Her whole aura annoyed me, but those words irked me even more. I glared at her, not knowing what was inside the bag.

"Thank you, Giselle," I muttered, barely masking the irritation in my voice.

There was no doubt she had ulterior motives. I didn't trust her for a second—especially since this was her prized black Louis Vuitton ring bag. What was she up to? I didn't dwell on it long; I couldn't waste energy figuring it out now, so I headed straight for the changing room.

When I got there, I hoped to find some clothes in my locker. Of course, it was empty. Brielle must have taken my things. Frustration bubbled up inside me, and I could feel the tension radiating through my body.

"Liora, this isn't you… What's going on? Seriously, you'd never act like this," Nysar's worried voice broke through my thoughts.

"I'm fine, Nysar! I don't want to talk about it. Nothing's wrong with me. Is it so bad to feel frustrated? I don't want to discuss this right now!" I snapped, trying to keep my anger in check.

"Liora, please listen. I know something's wrong—"

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Nysar!" I yelled, cutting her off. My irritation was climbing by the second.

"Maybe we should talk to Mas—"

"Nysar, I'm getting frustrated!" Did she really think I was insane? I was seriously irritated.

"Liora, trust me—"

This was really annoying. I tried to convince her, but she just kept being too persistent.

"Nysar…" I sighed.

"Liora, I—"

"SHUT UP!" I exploded. "ARE YOU CRAZY?! STOP YOUR NONSENSE! I'M OKAY MENTALLY! YOU'RE NOT HUMAN, AND YOU CAN NEVER UNDERSTAND! LEAVE ME IN PEACE, PLEASE! LEAVE ME ALONE!!" I cried out, overwhelmed and frustrated. My voice cracked as anger and exhaustion spilled out. Couldn't she see I wasn't in the mood to argue?

Nysar flinched and backed away, clearly caught off guard. For once, she didn't argue—her tiny wings trembling. Without another word, she flew out of the room.

"Nysar…" I whispered, but she didn't even glance back. Guilt crashed down on me. What had I done?

I mumbled to myself, "Did I upset her that much? Wait… where is she even going? What if someone sees her? Ugh, what have I done?"

Shaking my head, I turned back to the bag Giselle had given me. Reluctantly, I unzipped it. My eyes widened in disbelief.

"Oh my God. What? Why would she…? Does she expect me to wear this?" Inside was a short, sleek skirt and a matching top. I held up the skirt as if it were a cursed artifact—beautiful, stunning, breathtaking even… but completely out of my comfort zone. Against my better judgment, I sighed. I had no other option.

I slipped into the outfit and walked to the mirror at the end of my locker. I stared at my reflection.

"Do I really have to wear this? Can I go out looking like this?" I muttered. It felt like I was looking at a stranger. I scoffed, realizing I was talking to a mirror. This day can't get any worse. I glanced at the clock. 8:32 AM.

I groaned. Eight more hours of school, stuck looking like a wannabe runway model. As I adjusted the skirt,

"VALE!!"

The sound of my name being shouted startled me. Rough footsteps grew louder until the door burst open. Before I could react, the changing room door slammed open—almost like it broke.

Janet stormed in without warning, slapping me hard across the face.

I locked eyes with her, rage bubbling inside me. It was like the whole room was boiling hot. My vision blurred with fury.

The anger I had been holding back erupted at her feet. Before I knew it, I had grabbed her and thrown her across the room. She crashed into the lockers with a loud thud, slumping to the floor in a heap.

"AHHHHHHHH!" she screamed in pain after landing with a sickening thud. Her face was bloodied, clothes torn. I froze, staring blankly at her in shock, but then sharp pain shot through my head—soft yet overpowering.

A voice filled my mind, calm yet painful—like a rushing river. It drowned out everything else. The walls around me seemed to crack and crumble as if the entire room was collapsing. I screamed, clutching my head and dropping to my knees. I screamed at the top of my lungs, painfully gripping my hair.

Suddenly, the horrible pain left, the chaos of the room pristine again, untouched. I trembled, my knees weak, trying to piece together what had just happened. I glanced over at Janet, who lay motionless on the floor. Panic crept in—what if I had seriously hurt her?

My thoughts turned to Nysar. But then, the pain subsided, and the room grew still again.

"Nysar…" I whispered, but she wasn't there to answer me. My heart sank.

"What just happened?" I whispered to myself. My body felt light, like I was born anew. I stood up, hoping this wasn't a dream. To believe it wasn't, I looked at my right side.

Janet's unconscious form reminded me this wasn't a dream. I zoned out, my knees gave out, and I knelt there, trying to understand it all.

Then I felt it—someone's gaze on me. Slowly, I turned my head and saw him standing in the doorway—Sam, my senior. His expression was a mix of shock and… something else.

"Hey," he said cautiously, his voice breaking the eerie silence.

I didn't respond, just stared blankly at my palms like a lifeless being.

"Principal Julon needs to see you."

I stood, my legs shaky, catching the shocked expression on his face. His actions seemed annoyingly lustful, which irritated me.

I didn't answer him. I couldn't. My mind was reeling from everything that had just happened.

"You okay?" he asked, taking a step closer. His eyes flicked over me, lingering too long. I could feel his gaze lingering over me—especially on the skirt I was wearing. His eyes traveled over me in a way that made my skin crawl.

"How long have you been here, Sam?" I asked, my voice raspy from screaming earlier.

Sam smirked. "Rude. You're calling me by my name? Add 'senior' to it. And I've been here for a while, maybe an hour or so." He replied smugly.

"An hour?" I asked, confused. I glanced at Janet.

"Yeah, I was looking for you," he smirked annoyingly, eyeing me up and down.

"What! If you've been here that long… then… what did you see?" I looked at him, confused. Janet was gone.

"Nothing much," he said with a shrug.

"I came in, saw you kneeling there like you were sick or something. That's it." He laughed.

Did he seriously think that was funny? Well, it wasn't.

I glanced at Janet's limp form on the floor again, but she was gone. My heart skipped a beat. How was that possible?

"So… that's all you saw?" I pressed, my voice growing colder.

"Yes, duh," he shrugged. "Or was there more to see—especially with those skirts?" He glanced down at my skirt. I felt a wave of embarrassment again.

"I don't understand… What—"

"Uh, yeah? Why? Was there something else?" His gaze dropped to my skirt, and I felt another wave of embarrassment.

"Never mind." I turned to leave, brushing past him.

Sam held my hand and grinned, his gaze dipping again to my skirt. "Yeah, but let me tell you—you look breathtaking. Wanna spend the night at my place?"

The audacity of this guy. My hands clenched into fists, and I fought the urge to punch him.

"No…! And no… I'm not talking about anything like that."

"Then what are you talkin—"

"Just forget it! And don't ever start a conversation with me again!" I snapped, brushing past him and bumping his arm as I walked away.

As I walked away, I could hear him muttering behind me, "Rude. But damn, she's something else."