Chapter 41: "Back Into the Fire"
The walls of the school loomed over Zariah like a bad memory she couldn't erase.
She gripped the straps of her backpack tighter, walking next to Jasmine down the crowded hallway. Every step felt heavier, every noise sharper, scraping against her skin.
"You got this," Jasmine murmured, squeezing her hand before slipping into her own class.
Zariah tried to believe it.
Tried to believe anything.
The first teacher who spotted her — Mrs. Connors — gave her a tight smile.
"We missed you," she said, voice a little too sweet. "Everything okay?"
Zariah swallowed hard. "I've been going through a lot lately. I'm trying to catch up."
Mrs. Connors softened, patting her arm. "Take your time, dear."
It wasn't so bad.
Maybe she could survive today after all.
But it didn't last.
At lunch, another teacher — Mr. Harrison, her science teacher — cornered her outside the cafeteria.
"You know," he said, arms crossed, voice sharp, "taking days off doesn't make life easier. It just makes you lazy. If you're serious about your future, you need to toughen up."
Zariah froze. She couldn't even form words.
She nodded numbly, escaping into the bathroom as fast as she could without running.
She locked herself in a stall and pressed her back against the cold metal wall, trying to breathe, trying not to scream.
Lazy.
Weak.
Not enough.
It echoed louder than anything else.
The rest of the day blurred past her — fake smiles, heavy stares, unfinished work piling up like weights on her chest. By the time she stumbled off the bus and dragged herself through the front door, she wasn't even pretending anymore.
She went straight to her room, locked the door, and fell to the floor beside her bed.
Her hands shook as she found the hidden box, the one she promised herself she wouldn't touch again.
But promises felt so far away now.
She pressed the blade against her skin, deeper than she ever had before, watching the blood rise in thick, slow streams.
Still, she didn't feel it.
She was so far gone she was barely there.
She bandaged herself sloppily when it was over, trembling, dizzy, hollow.
No one knew.
No one saw.
And for the first time, Zariah wasn't sure if she even wanted them to.