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I reached the parking lot and stopped in my tracks when I noticed a crowd of students gathered near my parking spot. They were all looking at something and taking pictures. I willed my legs to move, hoping the crowd wasn't there because of me.

As I got closer, I realized it was my parking spot they surrounded, and my pulse sped up. I'd thought I was finally free from hell after everything that happened today, but Yin—oh, that old fiend—was ever-present. I bypassed onlookers only to freeze when I saw my car.

No.

Someone had completely vandalized it. They had covered the doors, roof, and hood with various paints, but that wasn't the end of my humiliation. The word "snitch" had been sprayed in large white letters all over my windshield, taunting me with its derogatory nuance, and it was too much. My classmates pointed their phones at me to capture my reaction, and for a moment, I was too tired to move or react. The voices around me grew louder.

"She's so lame."

"Look at that reaction! She looks like she's going to shit herself!"

"Maybe she already did."

Tears filled my eyes, but I refused to cry. I wouldn't cry in front of them. I wouldn't give them the pleasure.

"Snitch!" one guy shouted.

"Snitch!" the student next to him repeated.

"Snitch!"

"Snitch! Snitch! Snitch!" Everyone started chanting, and it was more than I could handle. I needed to run away.

"Step aside!" I yelled at the students and pushed them out of my way, trying to ignore their goading shouts. I entered my car and slammed the door shut.

"Snitch!"

"Snitch-bitch!"

"You're a freak!"

"Go and die already!"

I ran the engine, sickened by their brutal chanting. Two seniors stopped in front of my car and kicked the bumper.

"Get out of my way!" I screamed at them, pressing the horn twice, but they didn't pay any attention to me.

I noticed Hayden and Blake watch this scene from afar, and I could clearly see the delight in Blake's eyes. This was Blake's retaliation. I was disconcerted by how easy it was for him to degrade me.

Tingles appeared in the back of my head and my heart rate accelerated as panic gripped me. I had to get out of here before I lost it. I pressed the gas pedal and released the clutch, making my car jerk.

"What the...?!" The guys in front of my car darted out of the way, afraid I would run them over, which was the whole point.

I started the engine again and sped up, finally getting out of here.

**************

The car service Johns' Corner was one of the cheapest car services in Enfield. I used this service for two reasons. The first reason was the price. The second was that Mrs. Johns was one of the nicest ladies I'd ever met.

Mrs. Johns was in her fifties, always wearing flowery dresses that suited her plump body but were inappropriate for the car service. Her dyed black hair was usually collected in a ballet bun, and her russet brown face was covered with makeup at all times. Mr. Johns passed away many years ago, and they didn't have any children, which could be the reason why she'd always treated me as if I were her daughter.

Every time I came here with my vandalized car she got furious, urging me to report my bullies to the school's administration or the police. She had no clue.

I tried going to the police once. I went there when Josh Akers punched me in the face shortly after Kay died. They said they would investigate the case and called Josh and his parents, but in the end, they claimed I had no evidence that it was Josh who had done it. There were no witnesses, and it was my word against his. Josh's father was a judge, and he had good connections in the police, so I wasn't surprised at all that Josh was unscathed.

Needless to say, Josh doubled the torture he'd been inflicting on me ever since, so the moral of the story was that reporting my bullies to the police put me in even bigger danger.

This time, shame swallowed me whole when I got out of my car and took in Mrs. Johns' shocked expression.

"Who did this?" Her voice was brimming with anger.

"It's okay. Don't worry. It's just the paint."

"For Christ's sake, Sarah! This is a serious issue! This is a crime! Does your mother know about this?"

"No, but that's okay. It's pointless to make her worry. Besides, this can be solved quickly."

"Nonsense! You act like you have no mother!"

I never talked about my mother with Mrs. Johns. Somehow, that topic was too sensitive for me, and I wasn't ready to share my feelings about her to anyone. Whenever our conversation shifted to her, I would either skirt around the topic or give her a vague response.

I certainly couldn't tell her my mother wasn't giving me the money to fix my car. I was spending my own money.

I couldn't afford luxuries for myself for two reasons. Firstly, I didn't get much allowance from my mother. She had two wages, but those were barely enough to cover our bills, my school expenses, food, and her trips to bars. Secondly, my part-time job allowed me to save money for college and set aside a small amount I used for fixing things like a destroyed car, stolen or broken things, and so on.

Being bullied does take a toll on a person's wallet.

"It's really okay. That was just a stupid prank. You know how the school kids are these days..."

Mrs. Johns didn't buy it, but she knew there was nothing she could do if I didn't want to do anything about my bullies. She could only watch and fume with anger, but she couldn't help me.

Nobody could pull me out of my miserable life and give me the love, respect, and security I needed.

Eventually, she dropped the subject. My phone buzzed, and I opened a message from my mom.

"Sorry, but I changed my mind. I'm already out. I won't be home tonight, so you have to make something for dinner. See you tomorrow."

Her message was the cherry on top after a disastrous day. I felt so miserable that I just wanted to crawl into my bed and never wake up again. I turned my back to Mrs. Johns so she wouldn't see my teary eyes.

This wasn't something new. Mom was spending more time out during her free time, wandering from one bar to another. Then again, whenever she was home she was waspish, getting angry at every single thing, and it was draining my energy. So I didn't know what was the lesser of two evils.

I couldn't fall apart in front of Mrs. Johns. I sucked in my tears and put my best smile on before turning to her again. "So, what would be the price this time?"

We agreed on the fee, and she assured me it would be done by Thursday. I bid her goodbye and left the store, relieved that I managed to avoid my breakdown. For now.

**************

I went to 7-Eleven to buy groceries for dinner, the thoughts of the empty house that awaited my return invading my mind. This was one of those moments when I wanted nothing more than to have a friend to talk with. Each time I fell, Kay was there to pick me up, doing all he could to make me cheerful and less miserable. It was easier to battle my depression when I had him.

Kayden was the first person who accepted me and genuinely cared for me, and I was happiest with him. Our friendship felt too good to be true—it felt unreal that someone could be friends with me. In the beginning, I walked on eggshells, so careful not to ruin our friendship and lose the only true friend I'd ever had. If only I knew that Kayden would be taken from me in the cruelest way possible... I was so careful, yet I destroyed us in the end.

No, I didn't want to go down that memory lane now.

I picked up two bags from the checkout counter and exited the store, ready to walk a few miles to my house. I was at the far end of the store's parking lot when I caught sight of Hayden and Christine together on his Kawasaki, and I stopped, cursing myself for looking at my feet instead of my surroundings. Hayden had parked several feet away from me, so there was no way for me to pass them unnoticed.

Christine stroked his abdomen from behind, and my stomach churned at the sight of the two of them close like this. She whispered something into his ear, to which he half-smiled.

I wasn't surprised they couldn't let go of each other even after so many breakups, because they were the same. They were both vicious jerks who were determined to make my life hell, and I couldn't stand the sight of them.

Christine noticed me first, and her lips curled into a derisive smile. She said something to Hayden, and he snapped his head to meet my gaze. The usual expressionless mask fell on his face in an instant, the traces of the previous smile already gone.

I scanned the parking area to see if there were any people and only noticed some teenagers, who couldn't be older than fifteen, passing close by. Since Hayden liked to humiliate me in public, without caring about the consequences, I was sure he was about to create some trouble.

I sped up in another direction, intent on putting as much distance between us as possible. "Please, don't come. Please, please, please," I whispered as I scurried.

I yelped when he caught my upper arm in a steely grip, killing all my hope of escaping him, and pulled me around to face him. I sucked in my breath, noticing how close our bodies were. His menacing 6' 2" frame daunted me.

"Where do you think you're going? You can't run away from me like that."

His firm grip was starting to hurt. "Hayden, let go of me. Why can't you just let me walk away? Why do you have to harass me every time you see me?"

"And why do you always have to make such dumb questions? What's in those bags?"

"Excuse me?"

He grabbed one of the bags out of my hand, completely surprising me. "Hey! You can't do that!"

"Why do you never learn? I ask nicely only once, but you always play dumb."

He released me and opened the bag to scan through its contents. "Food and even more food. What—mommy isn't home to make you dinner? You're alone again?" His voice was sardonic, his words slicing me all too easily.

He knew my mother was my weak spot. He always watched me and paid close attention to my interactions with others, checking if the relationships with them were good or not so he could exploit that information. Hayden certainly took great pleasure in knowing I didn't get along with her.

Christine stepped next to him and gave me a disapproving once-over. "You should've seen her this morning. Her fall was hilarious. She really is dumb."

I let my eyes slide down her body, studying her appearance. Her skinny jeans fit her long legs perfectly, accentuating how well-defined they were, and her low-cut neckline shirt revealed her huge breasts, which were, I was sure, an object of desire of many East Willow High boys.

My breasts were small. Usually, I didn't obsess over their size, but there were times when I wished they were bigger. I wanted to wear low-cut shirts or dresses, but since that was impossible, I covered myself with clothes that completely hid my shoulders and chest.

"I saw it on YouTube during break," he answered, not giving any further comment.

"She looked as if she were going to faint. She looked so disgusting, especially when her eyes crossed." She rolled her eyes and sniggered.

"You're sick," I hissed at her.

She raised her eyebrow. "Yeah? At least I'm not a creep and a murderer like you."

Murderer. It stung. It really did. Even after two years of hearing them call me a murderer, I felt pain whenever they said that. It reminded me of how stupid and careless I'd been. It reminded me that Kayden died because of me.

I couldn't escape the toxic guilt I'd carried with me since that night. It was eating away at me. It was unconquerable, shouting at me from the depths of my mind that I deserved all bad things that were happening to me.

"Screw you." My voice was unstable, giving out how shaken I felt.

"Oh, poor baby. Are you going to cry?" she taunted me. "Please, cry. I'd like nothing more than that."

Hayden took a package with tomatoes out of the bag and opened it. He bit into one piece, and before I even had time to react, he threw it at me. The tomato hit my shoulder, its juice splashing across my white T-shirt, and I jerked back. I lost my grip on the bag, and my groceries spilled over the pavement.

I gaped at Hayden. "What are you doing?!"

His face displayed nothing but cold indifference. "I'm finishing what Blake started today."

He took the second tomato out of the package, bit it, and hurled it at my leg, spitting the bite out. I yelped when a dull pain exploded in my thigh, followed by a sense of wetness when the messy contents covered my jeans. I wanted to run away, but just like Jessica today, I was too shocked to move. He turned the package upside down and the rest of the tomatoes dropped to the ground.

"Hayden, stop!"

The teenagers I saw earlier came closer to us, two of them taking out their phones, and dread settled in the pit of my stomach. I hoped they were using them to call the police and not to shoot this.

Hayden ignored my plea, switching his attention to the egg carton. "Would you do the honors?" he asked Christine and opened it, pointing at the eggs.

Her grin was full of malice. "Gladly."

She took one out of the carton and threw it with all her force at me. I cried out in pain when the egg hit my chest, splattering all over my T-shirt. I didn't even have time to check just how gruesome the yellowish-red combination looked on the previously white cotton, because she'd already picked another egg and aimed it at my head. I barely managed to cover myself before it landed on my face.

She didn't stop, hitting me repeatedly, and the pressure in my head got stronger. I fell to my knees, unable to see or hear anything as the laughter in my mind intensified.

All I heard was laughter—they were laughing at me. All I saw were evil faces—they were glaring at me, mocking me, haunting me... It was humiliating and degrading. I felt like I was less than a human being. I was all alone and there was no one who would listen. Nobody cared.

I wanted it to stop. Humiliation, pain, laughter... I didn't want to hide anymore. I wanted to live free, unashamed of who I was. Why didn't they let me live?

Why can't I fight back? Why?

Run away, Sarah. Just... Go.

I heard someone crying, and I needed time to comprehend it was me who was bawling, begging them to stop. I looked around in confusion, slowly becoming aware that there were no more blows. Nothing was coming at me anymore. I was curled up on the ground, but nobody offered me help. Nobody ever offered any help.

I looked up at Hayden, waiting for the next attack. He just stared at me with his hooded eyes.

"Pitiful," he said in disgust and turned his back to me, finally deciding to leave. He dropped my bag, and the food scattered behind him after the impact.

I glared at Christine, who was taking several shots of me with her phone.

"Thank you for being a good model, as always. Have fun cleaning those terrible clothes. Though, I wouldn't bother in your place. They're so hideous I would burn them anyway."

She joined Hayden on his bike, and he left the parking lot in a cloud of smoke.

The teenagers started dispersing and no one—absolutely no one—even asked me if I was okay. They had their fun, they got their pictures, and they left me on the ground with no remorse to wallow in self-pity.

--------------------

Hello, hello, hello! <3 *waves like there's no tomorrow* Thank you so much for reading the sample chapters! I hope you enjoyed them as much as I enjoyed writing them! Sarah and Hayden have a long, long way ahead of them, and there are a lot of bumps on their road. If you want to read more, you can buy Bullied through Amazon, iBooks, Kobo, and more stores. :) The links to both ebook and paperback are in my bio. Thank you for reading and for all your support! *sends a big kiss and jumps back into her evil cave*

Love ya,

Vera

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