Ephyra patted her red hair which was messily braided on one side of her shoulder as she stood at the entrance of the top class, hugging a white envelope and teddy bear and patiently waited for Alan.
She waited for the whole break period while ignoring the looks and whispers sent her way by the few students littering the hallway.
But when she didn't see Alan or any of his classmates, she decided to drop it on his desk.
Walking into the expansive classroom, she went straight to Alan's desk and carefully placed the heartfelt letter on his desk, hoping it would finally convey her feelings and help him understand her. Alongside the letter, she placed the small teddy bear and prayed that he reads the letter and any misconceptions he had of her would be cleared.
But fate had other plans. As Mira Allen, Ephyra's stepsister, walked into the classroom just after she left to leave a lunchbox for Alan, she noticed the letter and teddy bear on his desk. Her blood boiled at the sight—how dare anyone else try to win Alan's heart? How dare they write a love letter to her Alan? Seething with jealousy, Mira snatched the letter and the bear.
As she read the letter, her anger intensified. Upon realizing it was from her stupid step-sister, Mira's rage consumed her, drowning out any trace of reason. After school, she wasted no time; she hired a group of thugs to intercept Ephyra on her way home, while Mira herself hurried back to change clothes and call her friends. They all headed to a secluded alley where the thugs had detained Ephyra.
When Mira arrived, her heart leapt with joy at the sight of Ephyra's swollen, terrified face, likely the result of a struggle with the thugs. She grinned as she approached her stepsister after paying the thugs and dismissing them.
"Oh, Ephyra," Mira cooed mockingly, "how pitiful you look."
One of Mira's friends snickered and added, "You mean how miserable she looks."
The group laughed in unison as Ephyra's confusion and fear grew. She could barely form words. "M-Mira? What is happening? W-what are you doing?"
Mira's eyes narrowed, "What am I doing? What does it look like, dear sister?"
"I-I…I don't know," Ephyra whimpered, "but if I offended you, we can talk—"
"Oh, shut the hell up, Ephyra!" Mira roared, making Ephyra flinch. Mira tilted her head, her voice a cold hiss. "You don't know what you did, huh?"
Ephyra shook her head desperately. "I really don't know… I'm sorry, I'm really sorry—"
Mira's lips curled into a sneer as she threw the crumpled letter and teddy bear at Ephyra's feet. "Does this jog your memory, you little twat? How dare you write stupid love letters and send gifts to Alan! How dare you?!"
Before Ephyra could respond, one of Mira's friends, a tall brunette, stepped forward, placing a hand on Mira's shoulder. "Babe, calm down. This sorry excuse of a girl isn't worth it."
"But I just wanted to clear up the misunderstandings between us," Ephyra pleaded, her voice shaking. "I didn't want him to hate me like everyone else does. I just wanted to fix our relationship—"
Mira threw her head back and laughed, a harsh, mocking sound that echoed off the alley walls. When she stopped, she looked at Ephyra with a condescending smirk. "Relationship? You really think you have a relationship with Alan?"
She stepped closer, grabbing Ephyra's arm with a painful grip. Her voice was icy as she spoke, "Let me make something very clear, you ugly little thing. You and Alan have nothing. Your 'relationship' is just a verbal agreement, nothing more. It could be broken at any moment. So don't fool yourself into thinking you mean anything to him. Do you understand me?"
Ephyra nodded, biting back tears, which only seemed to enrage Mira further. One of her friends chimed in, "Maybe she needs a little more persuasion, Mira."
"Yeah," another agreed, their voices filled with malice.
Mira grabbed Ephyra's hair and yanked it viciously, making her cry out in pain. "Do you understand me?!" she hissed.
"Y-yes," Ephyra sobbed, tears streaming down her face
Mira finally released her, letting Ephyra collapse to the ground. "Good. Now, why don't you read Alan's response to your pathetic letter?"
A small piece of paper fluttered down onto Ephyra's lap, followed by the sound of retreating footsteps and a final kick to her side. Shaking, Ephyra picked up the note, her hands trembling as she unfolded it.
Her breath caught as she read Alan's cruel words. He dismissed her entirely, stating he didn't care about her side of the story or her attempts to explain. He accused her of spreading lies about Mira and her family, and said she should be grateful they hadn't thrown her out on the streets. The letter dripped with contempt, labeling her as pretentious and unworthy of the kindness Mira had supposedly shown her. Alan made it clear that their 'relationship' was only a meaningless verbal agreement and that she should never contact him again, as she was nothing more than a product of a ruined family.
Ephyra's heart shattered as she read the final line: he wished she would disappear because no one wanted her around anyway.
Her tears flowed uncontrollably as the words echoed in her mind. The sky darkened above her as she cried until her tears dried up, leaving her hollow and numb.
With no sense of direction, she wandered aimlessly through the streets, lost in her misery. As the rain began to fall, she looked up at the sky and let out a bitter, broken laugh. Even the heavens seemed to hate her.
Blinded by her grief, Ephyra stepped off the sidewalk, unaware of the car speeding toward her. The driver, distracted by the police chasing him, didn't see her until it was too late. The car collided with her, sending her body flying several feet through the air before it hit the pavement with a sickening thud.
The driver, shocked but desperate, paused only briefly before reversing and speeding away, leaving Ephyra lying in a pool of her own blood. Within moments, a crowd had gathered, and two police cars arrived at the scene. The officers rushed to her side, one of them shouting for an ambulance.
"Hey, stay with me! Don't close your eyes!" one officer pleaded, gently patting her cheek, but his voice was distant and fading to Ephyra.
As darkness closed in, Ephyra's thoughts drifted to her mother. Is this how I'll die? she wondered, the pain in her body dulling as the cold grip of death tightened around her. Maybe… maybe it was better this way. At least in death, she could finally be with her mother.
'Mom, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not being strong enough. I'm sorry for not reclaiming everything that belonged to you. I'm sorry for not being the daughter you deserved. Please… forgive me.'
With that final thought, Ephyra succumbed to the darkness.
…
Thirty minutes later, Ephyra lay unconscious in a hospital operating room, her life hanging by a thread as doctors fought to save her. The beeping machines echoed in the sterile room, a stark contrast to the storm raging outside.
"Doctor, her oxygen levels are dropping!" a nurse called out, urgency thick in her voice.
"The heart rate is decreasing rapidly!"
The doctor grimaced, eyes fixed on the monitors. "We need to stabilize her, now! Push one milligram of epinephrine and prepare for defibrillation!"
One nurse administered the epinephrin, while another place the defibrillator paddles against Ephyra's chest. "Charging… clear!"
Ephyra's body jolted on the table as the electric shock coursed through her, but the heart monitor continued its erratic pattern.
"Come on!" the doctor urged, his hands sweating beneath his gloves. "Charge again, 200 joules. Clear!"
Another shock, another jolt of Ephyra's frail body.
"Again! Hurry, charge to 300 joules! Clear!"
The nurse's hand trembled as she prepared the defibrillator for another attempt. Ephyra's body, already weakened from the accident, jerked violently with each shock. The heart monitor's beeps grew more sporadic, teetering on the edge of flatlining.
"Come on, Ephyra," the doctor muttered under his breath, "Stay with us."
"Charging… clear!" the nurse announced.
The third shock rippled through Ephyra's chest, causing her body to arch off the operating table. For a moment, everyone held their breath, eyes locked on the heart monitor.
However, instead of the steady rhythm they hoped for, the monitor emitted a long, continuous beep as the flatline echoed through the room. Silence fell over the operating room as the medical team exchanged glances, their earlier urgency replaced with a heaviness they felt whenever a patient died.
The doctor sighed as he looked at the nurses who shook their heads. Breathing out, he closed his eyes and took off his gloves. "Declare time of death."
"Time of death; 9:58 PM."