Heroes. The protagonists of the story. The ones who always win the final fight. The ones who get to enjoy a happy ending. But is that always true, in a world where nothing is as it seems, where I don't even know who the actual enemy is.

X

Just like any typical morning, I woke up to the nonexistent chirping of the birds and the scalding of the wonderful morning sun that managed to escape through my transparent curtains.

'Gyehhhhh!' A monstrous bellow escaped from my tiny lungs the moment my eyes fluttered open. Spectrums of colours exploded at the back of my eyes as I felt my retinas melt and deteriorate even further from its already damaged state.

My next shout of despair was cut short once the date of the day glared at me through the screen of my bedside clock. Monday. School day. Education day. Doomsday.
Remembering that it was a school day once again made me shudder in fear of the possible occurences that would happen by going to school. My intense sense of dread, however, wasn't enough to drown out the consequences of not attending school today. Letting out a grunt, I managed to roll out of the safe haven that's my bed (albeit with a lot of resistance), stretch my still exhausted muscles and make my way to the toilet, all the while avoiding that damned window.

Juggling the task of brushing my teeth, showering and putting on makeup at the same time, I finally emerged from my front doors dressed in my finest 30 minutes later.

With the never changing sun beating down my back, I took my usual route to school, passing by the same old trees, the same old lampposts and the same old animals. I had wished them all a good morning before dragging my feet to the school compund, thanking everyone in skies above that I was at least smart enough to choose a school that is just a mere 2 kilometres away from my house. 

X

Even with the extra minutes of sleep, I was still unable to fight the occasional yawns breaking out from my mouth. But as the number of students trickling in through the gates gradually inceased, I poised myself, desperately fighting against these sleep deprived urges.

Slipping on my game face, straightening my posture, and tossing my hair to the right angle, I transformed my entire aura to the one that I was famous for. Feeling the comfortable confidence flow back into my being, the students who noticed me started to pass out greetings, acting all chummy with me when given the opportunity. Habits kicked in as I flashed a toothy grin to them and tried to return as many 'Good mornings' as I possibly can. 

'How's your weekend?'

'Did you hear about the latest gossip?'

'Blah and blah started dating, you know?'

Time for my profile. Not to boast, but I am actually pretty popular in school. Being the President of Choir, the Class Representative and the face of SM High, almost everyone who walk through these gates know who I am. And these people either like me or want to be like me.

All kinds of small talk ceased once the shrill of the bell cut through the noisy hallways. Students whom were chatting idly by the Iockers all seemed to suddenly have grown a sense of urgency as they rushed to where they needed to be, else they want to spend quality time with the school's big baddies.

I rose my hand to wave them goodbye. However before a single word was uttered, all of them have already huffed out quick 'bye byes' and rushed to their respective classrooms— leaving me in the dust. My hand was left there, in its limp state, when a sudden shot of pain was felt in my chest with my nose twitching to a sour sting. I felt an unidentified hollowness as I stood there, alone in the empty hallways, the silence deafening me, feeling as though something was missing.

What is this?  

Am I going to cry? Because of this?

My inner analysis was cut short as I arrived in front of my locker. The need to report to class on time never crossed my mind as I was too busy thinking about the ache in my chest, and now struggling to remember my locker combination. The locker number never really stuck with me even after spending 3 years in this school. Spinning the dial all the way right, I racked my brains, struggling to remember the numbers. 

Was it 39-4-18 or 3-30-39? Urgh! Numbers are too difficult to remember!

After helplessly turning the lock over and over again, I finally managed to pop it open after trying my luck with my otp's birthdays.

39-8-1, Ahhh what a beautiful combination...

X

My happiness was short-lived though. The moment I opened my locker, a tsunami worth of odours smacked my nose straight, this close to rendering it useless. Splotches of dripping wet unknown substance (presumably rotten eggs mixed with other pungent veggies, since I can't really tell from the blend of overwhelming smells) can be seen all over the inside of my locker leaving nothing in its wrath. Torned books and ripped gym clothing lie amongst the wreckage, mocking me with their pathetic state.

Red spots started appearing in my vision, as I felt the familiar rage burn it's way through my veins. The sight before me isn't uncommon as I immediately reached my conclusion on who was the culprit behind all this.

Almost as if sensing her biting presence, I whipped my head towards my right. Leaning against the row of lockers before me, looking as smug as ever with her stupid smirk plastered on that arrogant face was her. She was dressed just like the rebel that she was, leather jacket and ripped jeans, with her tousled brown hair and the occasional show of eye-damaging pink highlights. 

The sight of that face just fueled my anger, igniting a blazing inferno. I was so pissed to the extent that I had to clench my fists to stop myself from zapping her. But still, I couldn't help but want to do the one thing I wasn't able to since this morning. 

But, before I could scream out my pent up feelings, a loud hiss sliced through the tensed atmosphere, like a fan screaming during a ballad. 

Then, I felt something go splat on me. A sour odour pricked at my senses as the cream covered me from head to toe. Wiping the expired off my face, I turned up my glare to its maximum, directing it at the one other person in this entire walkway, all the while ignoring my current state and how I was basically an upsized Olaf.

Pushing past all my incoherent angry thoughts stood out this one name. The name of the one person behind every single torture I had to go through for the past 18 years of my life. And is the one currently standing in front of me, looking very much like she was stucking between laughing and crying, with her stupid habit of clapping accompanying this silent spectacle. 

Hwang TIFFANY   

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I would start off by apologising since updates would be super slow. I have accidentaly started something that I don't know if I can finish. So to everyone who has suscribed to this, thank you for your patience . I hope I can bring you guys the next update asap!