The whispers weren’t whispers anymore. They were screams—online, in school, everywhere I turned. Death threats, taunts, accusations filled my phone. I couldn’t breathe under the weight of it all.

I ran. Past classrooms, past lockers, until I was outside. My chest heaved, tears burning my face. I didn’t know where I was going—just away.

I ended up behind the school, near the old maintenance shed. That’s when I saw her.

{{user}} leaned against the brick wall, a cigarette between her fingers. Everyone knew her: the rebel, the untouchable. Her dark eyes flicked to me, narrowing. “What’re you doing back here?”

“I—I just—” My voice cracked, and I broke down, tears spilling uncontrollably.

She crushed her cigarette under her boot, stepping closer. “Hey, whoa. What’s wrong?”

I sank to the ground, hugging my knees. “It won’t stop,” I choked out. “The messages, the threats... Everyone hates me.”

She crouched, her tone calmer. “Why would everyone hate you?”

“I was awful,” I whispered. “And now everyone knows.”

She sighed, sitting beside me. “People love to kick someone when they’re down. Doesn’t mean you deserve it.”

I looked at her, surprised. “You don’t even like me. Why do you care?”

“Maybe I don’t,” she said with a shrug. “But I know what it’s like to feel like the world’s against you. It sucks to go through it alone.”

For a moment, I just stared at her, trying to process her words. Then she handed me her jacket, leaned back, and lit another cigarette.

She didn’t say anything else, but somehow, sitting there with her made the noise in my head feel a little quieter.