Margaret lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling, the soft glow of her bedside lamp casting long, flickering shadows across the room. Regret gnawed at her chest like an unwelcome guest, refusing to leave. Her friends, the ones she had once trusted were nowhere to be found. Not when she needed them, not when whispers and laughter of gossip circled around her like vultures. She had believed in alliances, companions who would stand by her, but reality proved cruel: they were nothing but shadows, fleeting and shallow.
The prank video replayed in her mind, each frame twisting her stomach into knots. The way Racheal's face shifted from confusion to hurt, the whispers that had spread like wildfire across campus… Margaret had been the catalyst, yet she had hidden behind excuses and forced smiles, pretending everything was normal.
A deep sigh escaped her lips. In those moments, she had wanted power, control over laughter, attention, and the scene, but what had it brought her? Loneliness. Embarrassment. A gnawing, quiet shame that refused to let her sleep.
Her fingers traced the edge of her blanket, hesitant and trembling. She longed to reach out, to finally speak the truth to Racheal, to admit that the video had been her doing, that the whispers were fueled by her own fear and insecurity. But the thought of Racheal's anger, the sting of possible rejection, froze her in place.
"I have to tell her," Margaret whispered, voice barely audible. "She deserves the truth… even if it means losing me forever."
Her mind wandered, imagining the moment she would confess. She could see Racheal's dark eyes narrowing, the way her lips would press together in disappointment, the faint flicker of hurt before it hardened into cold resolve. Would she forgive her? Or would she turn away, leaving Margaret alone with the weight of her mistakes? The uncertainty twisted her stomach tighter than any regret could.
Her phone buzzed faintly on the nightstand, a reminder of the world outside her guilt, but Margaret ignored it. Tonight, she would stay here a little longer, letting the weight of her remorse settle, gathering courage she hadn't felt in weeks. For the first time in what felt like forever, a fragile glimmer of resolve sparked within her. Tomorrow, she would speak.