Remi waited for a few minutes, hoping Eadan had left, and then she peeked out. There, lying on the floor, she spotted the missing compact that she hadn’t been able to reach on her last grab. When she crawled out to pick it up, in the far corner she spied a small notebook wedged behind a fake plant. Checking to see if anyone else still lingered in the hall, she stood and approached. Resembling a journal, she recognized its importance and couldn’t just leave it there.
Thinking it could belong to the young girl she often saw from down the hall, she picked it up. Then she went to the girl’s apartment and quickly tried knocking on the door.
No one answered. Not wanting to leave the item, Remi slapped it against her hand and debated. Finally, she took it with her and stepped into her sanctuary.
Her home never failed to please her and today was no exception. Having an eye for color, Remi had combed many of the smaller exclusive retail furniture stores looking for the perfect items to fit in with her theme of grass and sky. Different variations of pale greens, all toned to work together, were spread throughout the open-concept space. Assorted blues were in contrast with white, offsetting everything. She’d gotten many a compliment for her design; even her twit of a brother had given her a high five and a hug. And if he hadn’t added his stupid nickname—Pudge, she’d have been thrilled.
Kicking off her heels, peeling off the offending black tights she’d decided to wear, thinking her legs were too chubby without them, she went to the fridge and got herself a diet drink. Bringing it with her to the multicolored blue and green sofa, she plopped down and reached for the book she’d found outside her door. Hoping to discover a name of the owner, she first appreciated the drawings on the front pages and then flipped to the next. Suddenly, the large black letters of words printed there disturbed and horrified her.
I want to die!
Oh, my God! Remi carefully lowered her soda onto the coffee table, not surprised when some slopped over the edge. Unsteady, her hand shaking from the rush of adrenaline the harsh declaration had produced; she brushed at the moisture gathered in her eyes so she could see the rest of the words. Full of anxiety, she reread the agonized plea once again.
I can’t live this way anymore. They hate me. All of them! Cassie Edwards—resident bitch—the most. What did I ever do to her? To any of them, to deserve such loathing? I broke down yesterday, Journal. I lost it and screamed at her, “Why do you treat me so hatefully?” She literally sneered. And her answer floored me. “Because you live, you fat cow. It’s because we have to look at you every day.”
Pages of the similar ranting followed until Remi couldn’t read anymore. The poor, poor kid! Full of sorrow, her heart twisting inside like paper thrown on hot coals, she sniffed and let the book drop.
Remi knew exactly what this poor girl was going through. Unrelenting sadness, hidden in her heart for so long, welled up and threatened to destroy the composure she’d maintained for many years. Hadn’t she experienced her own Cassie in her youth? Only her nemesis’ name had been Susie—same bitch, different name.
Regrettably, those kinds of scars weren’t buried deep enough that they could be forgotten. The horrible, never-ending nights she’d fantasized about standing up for herself, earning her mates’ respect, and showing them her worth. Then, when she didn’t have the guts—contemplating suicide.
Frantically, Remi picked up the book and searched through the self-loathing and painful secrets until she finally found a name. Sure enough, it had been dropped by the young neighbour girl, Greta Morris. The poor dear who weighed fifty pounds more than she should have, and whose face suffered with explosions of acne and blemishes from an obviously poor diet. The tragic figure who shuffled in the hallway, face down and eyes averted. That one…