‘I’m hallucinating. That’s it. I’m having a fricken hallucination right now. The drug they used to knock me out is making my brain wonky and think cray cray stuff. I might even still be sleeping, and my overthinking, worried brain came up with this wacko dream. Wake up, Olly. It’s time to return to reality.’ I told myself, taking in deep breaths to steady my uneven breathing. But the stinging pain on my cheek and that of the rope binding my hands and legs behind me, was stronger than any imagination I wanted to force myself to believe. It was real. Everything. Alice had slapped me and laughed—no, not laughed—cackled like a witch, and said that she had always wanted to do that. Alice, my best friend. It was like she was a completely different person. “I-I don’t… I don’t u-understand.” I breathed. Though my voice trembled, I continued. “W-why did you do that? Why did y-you say that?” “Dee, could you give us some time alone? We need to have a little girl-to-girl talk.” Alice threw a s

“So, I changed my approach. I played the role of a sweet, supportive best friend, no matter how disgusted I was about it, and I wormed my way into your parents’ hearts. They were jolly fools like you, and they accepted me into their open arms. For years, I kept my façade perfectly, though I caused little issue on the side—not much to make you suspect me but enough to trouble you. I’m sure you remember some of them. Those mean letters you found in your locker. Messing up your science projects and homework… Ah, good old days.” Alice sighed; a small, soft smile was on her lips, and her eyes had a faraway look, like she was reminiscing about happy memories. I glared at her, utterly disgusted. They were definitely not good times for me. Those letters said really hurtful things, like body-shaming me about my height, my acne, and how dumb I was. I was depressed about that thing and felt worse that the culprit always found a way to not be caught. Who knew she was sitting down by my side, supp

‘Mum, Dad, I did it. I made our dream come true.’ I smiled as I sat at my table; my gaze swept through the room and pride washed over me. I finally did it; I finally realised my parents’ and my dreams. I opened my own restaurant. Regal Haven was having her grand opening ceremony, and from the look on everyone’s face, they were enjoying the party. Soft, classy music on the piano and harp strummed through the air, giving the room not only a sophisticated aura but also setting a relaxing mood. It went perfectly well with the theme of the restaurant: Victorian-era style with a modern twist, made to feel elegant but not too stuffy and up tight. The reviews of the foods I had gotten from a few of the guests I had talked to as I strolled around was all praise about how wonderful they were. I knew a minority view wouldn’t match against the populace, but from how hearty and chatty everyone else was, it was safe to conclude they thought so too. Regal Haven was having the most perfect openi