Lucky

After that fight, we stopped talking - abruptly, as if someone had cut the invisible thread between us. At first, I still waited: maybe Lecy would text first, apologize, or at least ask how I was doing. But the days went by, and my phone remained silent.

Stage 1. The Silent War We went to the same school, so avoiding accidental encounters was impossible. Every time we crossed paths in the hallway, we pretended not to notice each other. But I'd catch her glance - sharp, prickly - and I knew she remembered everything.

One day, I discovered that all my history notes had disappeared from my locker. They were just gone - along with a couple of pages from my notebook. I knew right away who'd done it.

The next day, Lecy showed up with a bright‑pink streak in her hair — exactly the shade I'd once dreamed of trying but never dared to dye. It was a message: “Look, I can do what you're afraid to.”

Stage 2. Vengeful Day Lecy started hanging out with a group of kids who'd never liked me. Was it just a coincidence that they suddenly began making snide remarks at me? Or had she told them which words would hurt the most?

I struck back in my own way: I anonymously posted an old photo of Lecy on the school forum - the one where she was wearing that ridiculous sweater she hated and had sworn the picture was destroyed. She caught my eye when she saw the post, and her face twisted with pain and fury. After that, we didn't take revenge on each other and had no contact whatsoever. Three years passed, and we were living ordinary lives, having forgotten about each other - but then...

Lucky was born into a family that valued willpower and independence. Her older brother was her role model: he taught her to stand up for herself and never back down. He gave her the silver skull bracelet - a family heirloom said to protect its wearer from deceit and betrayal.

When Lucky was 17, her brother died in what she believes was no accident. She withdrew into herself, then decided the only way to cope was to become stronger. She dyed her hair bright red — a symbol of her inner rage — and started wearing all black as a protest against the world that took her brother.

Relationship with me: Once we were close. We shared secrets, dreams, and made a promise to always have each other's backs. But after her brother's death, grief and anger drove a wedge between us.

Lucky accused me of not supporting her at her most difficult moment. In turn, I believed that Lucky had become too reckless and aggressive, and was pushing people away on her own.