Chapter 5
537words
Their expressions were different this time—almost gleeful.
Contempt. Disgust. Anticipation.
I looked at the whiteboard and saw it written in bold red marker.
"EVELYN CARTER IS A DESPERATE SLUT"
I turned to find Sophia.
She was practically vibrating with excitement.
I walked to the board and grabbed the eraser, desperate to remove those words before a teacher arrived.
Just as I raised the eraser, Sophia's voice rang out.
"Evelyn, we've all read your diary."
My blood turned to ice.
"You left it under your desk yesterday," she said with a smirk. "I was just trying to return it, but... well, it fell open."
Horror washed over me in a sickening wave.
My diary contained everything—my hatred for Sophia, my pathetic crush on Lucas, the truth about my alcoholic father, my desperate plans to escape.
"Who wants to hear what Little Miss Perfect really thinks?" Sophia waved my worn notebook in the air.
"Read it!"
The class erupted in cheers and whistles.
Sophia flipped it open with theatrical flair.
"September 15th: Watched Lucas at basketball practice again today. His smile makes my heart stop. When he runs, his hair gets all sweaty and sticks to his forehead in this way that's just..."
The class howled with laughter.
I lunged forward, desperate to grab my diary.
Sophia danced away, flipping pages.
"October 3rd: Dad came home wasted again. Smashed his bottle against the wall. Mom tried to calm him down, and he split her lip. I tried to help and got a cut on my arm..."
The laughter died awkwardly.
Uncomfortable whispers spread through the room.
"Jesus, her home life is actually that bad?"
"No wonder she's so messed up."
But Sophia wasn't finished.
"November 10th: I hate Sophia Bennett with every fiber of my being. She pretends to be this perfect princess, but she's really just a manipulative bitch who gets off on other people's misery..."
The room went dead silent.
Every eye turned to me.
Sophia snapped the diary shut, her eyes welling with perfectly timed tears.
"Evelyn," she choked out, "I've only ever tried to be your friend. How could you write such horrible things about me?"
I opened my mouth, but no words came.
"I've defended you, helped you, been there for you..." Her voice cracked with fake emotion. "And this is how you repay kindness? By calling me these awful names?"
The class rallied around their queen.
"What the hell, Evelyn?"
"After everything Sophia's done for you?"
"Ungrateful bitch!"
I stood frozen, my entire body shaking.
I wanted to scream the truth, but my voice had abandoned me.
Yes, I wrote those words. Yes, I hated Sophia. And yes, every word was true.
That was my private diary, my one safe space.
What right did she have to violate it?
What right did she have to broadcast my private thoughts?
But no one cared about my privacy—they only cared that I'd insulted their queen.
From that day forward, I became completely isolated.
No one spoke to me. The seat beside mine remained permanently empty.
Even teachers treated me differently—colder, dismissive.
I became the school pariah.
