Chapter 5

DIAMOND POV

Ghosting everyone is like living in a different world; you don’t get to know what happens around you. It’s both safe and dangerous.

Lately, I've been playing safe and dangerous; darkness is dangerous and safe, and I love it.

It’s the only thing that gives me solace now that I no longer have a dad.

I’m just alone in this big house and left with dad’s entire wealth because I’m his only child. It’s sick to claim them because I still don’t want to believe that he’s gone.

But reality keeps telling me—whispering to me, yelling to me—that he isn’t here anymore.

I have been reading sad books, and they haven’t been helpful. I cry miserably, super ugly. I relate them to my dad, and my eyes and heart are almost about to split up.

I still have the window closed, which keeps the darkness closer than ever. I’m trying to fall back on my pillow on the bed when I hear a knock at my door.

That’s strange, because lately Amanda has stopped coming to me or knocking at my door.

She got frustrated when I kept her mute, and she would knock till her knuckles went sore.

She’s literally left me on my own to do my thing, but sometimes I can see how worried she is for me, but she’s afraid to speak to me because she thinks I might lash out at her or ignore her like I have been doing for weeks.

“ Diamond? Are you in there?” Her voice is skeptical because everywhere is dark and she isn’t able to see me. The only notice she gets whether I’m in here or not is when I respond.

My voice is the only proof that I’m still alive in his horrific, dark room, which seems like a ghost house.

“ Dia?” Her voice is unclear; I’ve troubled her too much; I’ve troubled everyone, and I will never feel guilty for it. The world goes on, while my world has stopped going on since my dad left me.

I can’t relate to things like I used to do anymore. A lot has changed, and it has changed me. It changed me from a happy, bright, star girl to the queen of darkness and a fucking introvert.

“What do you want, Amanda?” My voice is stern, and since it’s dead silent, I can hear her fright from the way she breathes.

“ Erm… I think you have a present.” She stutters for a second, but her voice gets clearer as she speaks.

“A present?” I jump out of bed. Who will give me a gift at this time? Is the person trying to mock me? Make me feel sadder or happier.

“Who is it from?” I ask her, waiting for her to speak, and she still isn’t able to see me; I can’t either.

“ Erm.. I’m not familiar with them, but they said you are course mates.” Her heart pants and she mutters slowly, and it's my fault; I've become too strict for her, but the fact she hasn’t left me like everyone else has makes my heart warm.

Wait, them?

Now I’m brainstorming “them” because they no longer exist in my world. With the way I have been avoiding anyone, no one in their right mind will want to gift me.

This gets me curious and somehow scared, but my curiosity wins the battle because I saunter towards her and take the so-called gift from her.

When I’m about to slam the door, she tells me that they are all boys, and I'm stiffened in motion.

Boys? Is this a fucking joke or what?

I turn around to face her, arching my brow when my icy blue eyes grow in size.

“Why will some boys give me a gift?” I demand, but she has no clue, and then she tells me they left immediately after it was delivered to her.

What is in here?

I stare at the gift package in my hand, and it looks pretty—the perfect design for girls. I’m dying to know what’s inside, so I dismiss Amanda and get back to my bed.

When I tear off the gift wrap from it, I see a label on it: “I hope you love your gift, our pretty little mouse.”

Chills go down my spine, and there’s this awkward feeling that jolts through me.

“Little Mouse?" I whisper, tearing off the entire gift wrap until I see what is inside.

And shit, it’s a fucking doll—a mouse doll at that. “What is this bullshit?” A wave of anger shoots through me, and I throw the doll to the ground.

Who is trying to play silly games with me? Then I recall that Amanda said they were three boys.

Wait, three boys.

The sentence rings in my head: three boys?

The newly transferred boys?

Fuck, I’m about to throw the entire thing off my bed when I see a note inside.

I don’t know why my hands are suddenly trembling, and I feel a strange heat as I shudder.

It's a tiny piece of note, and I open it slowly to read, “C'mon, little mouse, it’s over now. Acting like a saint isn’t going to save your ass, so you better do as we say or you get yourself blamed.”

What the fuck are they talking about? My breathing picks up. I want to squeeze the shitty note in my bare hands when I see the same handwriting below the note.

Another note was left.

“In case you don’t know what we are talking about, little mouse, I will give you a tip; fucking the professor and pretending to be a saint is not nice at all.”

I throw the note to the floor in shock as my hand goes cold.

“ Professor?” I repeat, trying to comport myself, but the entire note made me miserable to the core.

Shit, what have you done, Jane?

I recall Jane calling me and saying one of the transferred students was looking for me and didn’t give a fuck about them, and they had no reason to be looking for me.

But now it all makes sense. Jane had told them about my darkest secret.

Jane is the only one who knows; I had mistakenly fucked Mr. Feud on that party night. I can’t even remember how it happened.

It was a dinner party for both professors and students. I can’t recall what happened; I only saw myself naked in a room with him.

He told me how he enjoyed fucking me, and I was the sweetest girl he had ever fucked.

I was disabled as though I were struck by lightning. It became a nightmare, and I couldn’t keep it to myself, nor was I able to tell dad.

Dad would have killed him, for sure, for sleeping with his only daughter. So dad was totally out of options; the next person was Jane.

We were so close; we were best friends, and then she noticed how my mood had been since the party.

I told her how I found myself with him in a room, naked. She hates him for it, and I wasn’t scared or ashamed to tell her. She was my best friend. We keep each other secret, but she has never told me a secret that is as dirty as mine.

Tears prick my eyes like a needle. I recall everything: how I cried so hard that I had lost my virginity to him. She did console me, and this?

Now she’s told someone my secret. Not even someone, the new transferred boys?

Hell, no.

The name they call me rings in my head—little mouse.

If I had been playing safe all this time, then it’s about to get ugly. I can feel it, and I can smell it like I can easily smell blood.