The first phone flash hit Susan's face like a slap.
She winced, shrinking into herself, feeling the old, familiar ache — shame curling tight around her ribs.
Jessica's heels clicked menacingly across the cracked floor.
"So this is where trash like you hides?" Jessica sneered, her manicured fingers waving her phone mockingly.
The others — boys from the football team, girls from the cheer squad — snickered and whispered, recording everything, their voices buzzing like a swarm of locusts.
---
Jackim stood firm in front of Susan, his jaw clenched, fists twitching.
"Leave her alone," he said, voice low and dangerous.
Jessica laughed — that cold, ugly sound.
"Aww, look everyone! The janitor boy thinks he's a knight."
More laughter.
Someone threw an empty soda can; it hit Jackim's shoulder and bounced harmlessly to the floor.
He didn't even flinch.
Susan's heart twisted painfully.
She wanted to stand up.
She wanted to scream.
But her body felt too heavy, weighed down by years of humiliation.
---
Amanda — Jessica's shadow — leaned against a broken locker, filming.
"She's trending right now, Jess," she said, flashing her screen.
"Already three thousand views."
Susan squeezed her eyes shut.
Three thousand strangers now knew her shame.
Knew her face.
Her brokenness.
---
Jessica strutted closer, twirling a silver chain in her fingers.
A glint caught Susan's eye — not jewelry.
A key.
Jessica dangled it mockingly.
"Oh, and thanks for letting me 'borrow' your locker today, Susie," she said sweetly. "Found some... interesting stuff."
She tossed a crumpled envelope at Susan's feet.
Susan recognized it instantly — the letter from her orphanage, the one she never let anyone see.
Jessica must have stolen it.
Susan's chest heaved with silent sobs she couldn't hold anymore.
---
"Enough."
Jackim's voice cut through the cruelty like a blade.
But the mob wasn't listening.
The boys egged each other on, laughing louder, circling closer.
Someone grabbed Susan's battered backpack and dumped it onto the floor — scattering notebooks, a cracked photo frame, pens, and the only pair of good shoes she owned.
They stomped on them.
Crushed them.
Jessica crouched in front of Susan, her flawless lips curving into a predator's smile.
"You don't belong here, you filthy mistake."
The words stabbed deeper than any knife.
---
Jackim moved before anyone could blink.
A sharp punch — clean, brutal — knocked one of the football boys to the ground.
Chaos erupted.
Screams.
Shouts.
Fists.
Susan, frozen, watched Jackim fight — wild, desperate, outnumbered.
He didn't care about getting hurt.
He cared about her.
Tears blurred her vision.
---
Suddenly, cold hands yanked her up roughly.
Jessica.
"Smile for the camera, orphan freak," she hissed, shoving Susan toward Amanda's phone.
A blinding flash.
Susan stumbled backward — straight into a sharp, broken locker edge.
Pain exploded in her shoulder.
Blood bloomed.
Jackim roared, tearing through the crowd.
Jessica shrieked and stumbled back, dropping her phone.
It cracked on impact.
Good.
---
Siren lights flashed outside the broken windows.
Someone had called security — too little, too late.
The crowd scattered like rats.
Jessica and her minions fled into the night, leaving behind their cruelty like smoke in the air.
---
Susan collapsed to the ground, breathing in ragged gasps.
Jackim knelt beside her, his face bruised, split lip bleeding, his hands shaking.
"Susan," he rasped.
"Are you okay?"
She nodded weakly — a lie.
Nothing was okay.
Nothing would ever be okay again.
---
The security guards stormed in, shouting orders, radios crackling.
But Susan didn't hear them.
All she could hear was the sound of her own heart breaking.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Until there was nothing left but silence.
---