The fluorescent lights of the deserted classroom felt heavy, a spotlight on my private stage of humiliation. The world outside had faded to an oppressive, inky black, leaving only the shadow of my tormentor standing before me.
"WHY...?!" I finally managed to whisper, the single word a raw, aching tear in the suffocating silence.
The dark was thick around me, pressing in. The empty desks were silent witnesses to the daily dread. The words played over and over in my mind, a frantic, broken record: THIS DOESN'T MAKE ANY SENSE. WHY ME...? WHY ARE THEY BEING SO MEAN TO ME? Each thought was a desperate plea lost in the vast, echoing space of my terror.
I felt so utterly alone, sinking, accepting the inevitable darkness that always followed their presence. They moved, a dark silhouette against the faint light, and I braced myself for the next blow, the next cruel word.
Then, a miracle happened.
A hand reached out from the periphery, a small, pale lifeline cutting through the gloom. It settled gently, surprisingly, on my cheek, and the world seemed to shift, the crushing black receding just an inch.
I looked up, stunned, into the gentle, unsettlingly calm eyes of another student. Her uniform was perfect, her expression soft but firm. It was a face I barely knew, a bystander who had somehow stepped out of the shadows.
She leaned in, her voice low and clear, cutting through the silence like a sharp, thin blade of steel.
"IT'S NOT OVER YET." Her eyes held mine, unwavering. "DON'T GIVE UP!"
The words were a shock, a sudden surge of cold adrenaline. The despair I was drowning in seemed to lose its grip. For the first time, in this dark, lonely room, I didn't feel like a victim facing an inescapable fate. I felt... seen. And maybe, just maybe, I had an ally. The battle wasn't over. Not yet.
The world spun, a sick, dizzying blur of dark classroom walls. The terror and humiliation finally overwhelmed my physical self. My hand clamped over my mouth, a futile effort to keep down the bile rising in my throat.
"WHY ME?!!!" The silent scream ripped through my head, a furious echo against the sound of my body betraying me.
Gag.
Retch.
I stumbled, hunching over, consumed by the dry heaves. Every muscle convulsed, a desperate, miserable attempt to expel the poison of the last few minutes. I was weak, pathetic, and now, disgusting.
Their Judgment
From the shadows, a low, dismissive MURMUR started.
"Did she just retch?" a voice sneered.
"I thought she was gonna puke all over the floor."
"Ugh, gross."
I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing for the floor to swallow me. Even this, my body's final desperate protest, was just another source of their mockery.
A male student stepped into the faint light, adjusting the knot of his tie with a look of utter contempt. "Ew, that's disgusting..." He crossed his arms. "Throwing up isn't gonna get you out of this." His tone was cold, the sound of an executioner delivering a verdict.
He was right. There was no escape.
The Inspection
Another group moved deeper into the room, their attention drawn away from my pathetic state by something more interesting—something that hinted at their secret agenda.
They began to inspect a dusty pile of boxes stacked against the back wall. One of the male students, serious and focused, was pulling out a dark object.
"There's too many suspicious items in here..." he murmured, his back to me.
"...for us to pretend we didn't see anything," another completed the thought.
I watched, frozen, clutching my trembling stomach. They weren't just bullying me for sport anymore. They were searching for something, exposing a secret, building a case. The scene had shifted from a personal attack to an unnerving investigation, and I had a terrifying realization: whatever they were looking for, they meant to use it to destroy me completely.
...!
My heart slammed against my ribs. What had they found?
The students gathered by the boxes had found exactly what they were looking for, and my blood ran cold.
One of the boys held up a crisp, white object. "Look! Isn't this the envelope the Class President was talking about?"
My breath hitched. The stolen class fund envelope. It had been missing for weeks, and now, here it was—pulled from a box of my belongings. A wave of light-headed terror hit me. I hadn't taken it. I knew I hadn't, but seeing it in their hands, knowing the narrative they were about to weave, felt like a concrete wall slamming down on my future.
Before I could form a coherent thought, another item was produced. The boy in the dark jacket gave a practiced little TOSS of a small, white electronic device—an MP3 player. He caught it neatly.
"Isn't this your MP3 too?" he asked, his eyes wide and mocking, a caricature of innocence.
The girl who had moments ago offered a brief moment of hope, the one who told me not to give up, was now standing near the boy in the jacket. Her face was a mask of shock and accusation. She had clearly been caught trying to hide or defend something that now appeared to be damning evidence.
The MP3 player, the envelope—all of it piled up, making me look like a thief. My hands, which I had just used to keep myself from retching, started to TREMBLE TREMBLE. My own possessions were being used as weapons against me.
The boy in the white shirt, the leader of my tormentors, stepped closer, his face grim with false disappointment. He looked down at me, and his voice was a low, chilling whisper of final judgment.
"Oh, and..."
He paused, letting the silence draw out the suspense, letting my fear peak.
He then dropped the final, crushing accusation.
"...you even stole my phone."
It was a perfect lie, a beautiful, devastating piece of theater. The missing money, the "stolen" MP3, and now his phone—it all cemented a flawless narrative of me as a desperate, thieving outcast. I opened my mouth to protest, to deny, but the words caught, a thick knot of terror and hopelessness in my throat. I had nothing left to say. They had already decided who I was.
The final piece of their cruel performance was laid out before me.
The boy, the ringleader, held up a generic black phone in his hand, looking straight at me. He had the satisfied, predatory grin of someone who knew they'd just won. "...you even stole my phone." The lie was delivered with such conviction, holding the phone as if it were indisputable proof.
The Verdict
The girl who had once offered me encouragement—the one I had briefly mistaken for a friend—was now seated, her face a picture of feigned surprise and disgust. She whispered to the boy beside her, a loud stage whisper for everyone to hear.
"I didn't realize she had Jaeo's cell phone... How funny."
Funny. My entire world was collapsing, and she found it funny. The betrayal was a fresh wound, stinging worse than any punch. That single moment of connection, of shared desperation, had been nothing but a cruel prelude to this final, public execution of my character.
The Hysteria
Then, the crowd erupted. The silhouetted figures—the rest of the class, the bystanders, the silent majority—had their proof. The jacketed student who first found the objects looked utterly horrified, though her horror was directed at me.
"OH MY GOD, SHE REALLY WAS the thief!" she gasped, clutching her hand to her mouth.
The tide of opinion turned instantly, washing away any doubt and replacing it with pure, collective hatred.
"WHAT A PIECE OF TRASH..."
"UGH, STINKS LIKE GARBAGE OVER HERE!"
The words were not whispers; they were loud, venomous declarations meant to hurt. I could feel their collective eyes burning into me, painting me with a filth I hadn't earned.
"PIECE OF SH*T..."
Then, a shout that named the crime and the criminal, a title that would follow me forever.
"HEY, SEONGHEE! YOU PIECE OF SH*T!!"
I didn't have to look up to know they were all staring, their faces twisted with self-righteous disgust. The truth didn't matter. The real story was the one they had constructed: the outcast who was not only bullied but was also a thief, a liar, and trash. In their eyes, my suffering was now justified. I was officially the monster. I was Seonghee, the piece of trash.
The sound of their accusations—"thief," "piece of sh*t"—reverberated in my ears. I could feel my teeth grinding, a raw, desperate sound of defiance barely audible over their clamor.
GRIT.
My body was still shaking, but the sheer injustice of the moment finally overpowered my terror and nausea. A furious energy surged through me. I wasn't going to let them paint me as the villain with their perfect, ugly lies.
The Fury
I straightened up, throwing off the posture of a defeated victim.
"SHUT UP, YOU JERKS!!" My voice was hoarse, a ragged shriek, but it cut through their murmurs.
I spun, pointing an accusing finger at the ringleader. Every ounce of my remaining strength was poured into the denial. "HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO SAY THIS?! I'M NOT THE THIEF!!"
I saw their smug, satisfied expressions falter for a moment, surprised by the sudden, volcanic eruption of my anger. This was my chance. I had to rip their story apart.
The Defense
"I WAS ONLY IN THE CLASSROOM TO HANG OUT WITH JUNSEO!" I screamed, the words tumbling out in a rush. I gestured wildly, trying to paint the real picture. "JUNSEO TOLD ME TO SKIP P.E. AND COME TO THE CLASSROOM!"
I swung my eyes back to the boy who had called me a thief, Jaeo. I had one card left, one witness who could possibly salvage the situation.
"JUST ASK HIM IF YOU DON'T BELIEVE ME!"
I looked past them, searching for Junseo, the boy I had seen sitting with the girl moments ago, the one whose tie was still neat. He was my only way out of this narrative.
But the girl, the traitor, shot a cold, dismissive glance my way.
"What is she even talking about?" she murmured to Junseo, her voice dripping with skepticism.
Junseo, however, didn't look at her. He kept his eyes averted, his face utterly blank, a silent, damning refusal to back up my story.
"I bet she's lying," the girl concluded, sealing his silence and my fate.
The truth had just been silenced by an act of deliberate cowardice and betrayal. The fury drained away, leaving a chilling void. I was completely alone, fighting a perfect lie with a truth that no one wanted to hear.
The denial left my lips, raw and desperate, but the moment the words were out, I knew they would be ignored. My whole body shook with furious indignation.
"SHUT UP, YOU JERKS!! HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO SAY THIS?! I'M NOT THE THIEF!!" I screamed, the sound of my voice echoing off the classroom walls, a futile challenge against their overwhelming numbers.
My Plea for Truth
I had to explain. I had to rip their fabricated story to shreds before it became my reality. I pointed to the boy who had been standing with the girl.
"I WAS ONLY IN THE CLASSROOM TO HANG OUT WITH JUNSEO! JUNSEO TOLD ME TO SKIP P.E. AND COME TO THE CLASSROOM!" My hands were shaking as I pleaded for a sliver of justice. "JUST ASK HIM IF YOU DON'T BELIEVE ME!"
I locked eyes with Junseo, the supposed witness to my innocence. He sat motionless, staring ahead. The girl next to him, the one whose soft words had briefly given me false hope, leaned in and murmured, her voice laced with venomous dismissal. "What is she even talking about? I bet she's lying."
Junseo remained silent, his refusal to speak louder than any accusation.
The Coercion
Just as I felt the last drop of hope drain away, the boy in the dark jacket—the one who had found the "evidence"—moved toward the girl who had been crying thief. He put a hand on her shoulder, a gesture that looked supportive but felt menacing.
A low MURMUR spread through the crowd as they watched this interaction. The onlookers didn't care about the truth; they cared about the drama and the united front of the popular kids.
The boy leaned in, his own low MURMUR of instruction—or perhaps coercion—lost to my ears, but clearly understood by the girl. She looked up at him, her face a mixture of fear and compliance.
Their united pose—Junseo's silent betrayal, the girl's public lie, and this final, subtle act of manipulation—sealed my fate. The truth had been exposed, but the lie had been chosen. I was trapped, convicted by a conspiracy of thieves who had successfully pinned their crimes on me.
My plea, my raw claim that Junseo had called me to the classroom, hung in the air, a final desperate attempt at truth. He finally spoke, and his words didn't just contradict me—they obliterated me.
Junseo's Betrayal
He looked at me with an expression of mild annoyance, as if I were a stranger who'd just interrupted his thought process.
"I never asked you to skip class and meet me in here," he stated coolly. He even added a dismissive thought: "Why would I want to be alone with you?"
The words were a physical blow, a cold, calculated strike that stole my breath. But he wasn't done. He was establishing his perfect alibi, dismantling my defense completely.
"I was in the equipment room in the gym... helping the P.E. chair."
I staggered back, the solid ground vanishing beneath my feet. This wasn't just him being silent; this was an active, deliberate lie designed to destroy me. It wasn't about stealing anymore; it was about my entire reality being twisted.
The girl in the jacket, still reeling from the shock of the "evidence" they'd planted, stammered her disbelief. "YOU'RE JOKING, RIGHT? W-WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT...?" Even she couldn't immediately process the depth of his malice.
The Verdict and The Warning
I looked at Junseo, the boy who I had considered a friend, maybe my only friend. He looked back, his eyes dead and empty of any remorse.
"YOU DID THIS TO YOURSELF, SEONGHEE." His voice was low, final, chilling. It was a complete shift in narrative, pinning the entire setup—the theft, the evidence, the public humiliation—on my supposed desperation to be near him.
The girl who had just defended me with her shocked stammer looked at Junseo, a dawning horror in her eyes as she realized he was the real monster.
"HOW COULD YOU...?" she whispered, the raw emotion of betrayal finally breaking through her composure.
Junseo didn't even look at her. His gaze remained fixed on me as he delivered his final, cruel lesson.
"YOU SHOULD HAVE LEFT HER ALONE."
It wasn't an apology to the girl. It was a confirmation that his rejection of me was the reason for my downfall, a final, sickening act of emotional gaslighting that left me standing in the center of the room, utterly broken and alone. I had no defense left. Junseo's lie had made me the thief, the outcast, and the one responsible for my own ruin.
The Initial Betrayal
The classroom was a suffocating void. My mind screamed the questions that had no answers: "THIS DOESN'T MAKE ANY SENSE. WHY ME...? WHY ARE THEY BEING SO MEAN TO ME? IT'S NOT MY FAULT."
A figure approached me, the girl in the tidy uniform who had briefly given me that false hope.
"WHY...?" I managed to whisper to her, begging for a reason for the constant cruelty.
She met my gaze with an intense, unblinking focus. She leaned in, her voice cutting through the rising panic. "IT'S NOT OVER YET. DON'T GIVE UP!" She seemed like an ally then, an unexpected lifeline.
But that moment of light was a cruel trick, a setup for a darker fall.
Junseo's Confession
The real pain came from Junseo, the boy who had just publicly framed me as a thief and a liar. The girl in the tracksuit, my friend, the one who had cried out "HOW COULD YOU...?" moments ago, faced him now, her face a mask of shock and wounded confusion.
"HOW COULD YOU...? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?! YOU'RE MY BOYFRIEND!!" she screamed, realizing the depth of his calculated, cold-blooded betrayal.
Junseo, however, remained utterly unperturbed. He met her raw, desperate emotion with a gaze of chilling apathy.
He looked up, a shadow of a smile playing on his lips, before delivering the final, devastating blow.
"I ONLY DATED YOU BECAUSE YOU BEGGED ME TO... I PITIED YOU. THAT'S ALL."
The words didn't just break her; they broke the last remaining piece of my faith in humanity. He used affection as a weapon, and now he was discarding her like trash, proving the depth of his monstrous heart.
The Ultimate Insult
Junseo looked directly at the girl he had just destroyed, then down to his own hand, which he coolly SLIDE into his pocket. His voice was a flat, clinical observation.
"BUT EVEN IN THE SHORT TIME I'VE BEEN WITH YOU, I COULDN'T HELP BUT NOTICE WHAT A PIECE OF SH*T YOU ARE..."
The final image—the casual hand sliding into his pocket after he'd delivered such a horrific judgment—was a perfect snapshot of his cruelty. He had effortlessly moved the stolen items, fabricated a crime, destroyed my reputation, and now, he'd emotionally gutted his own girlfriend.
I stood there, surrounded by his victims and his disciples, realizing that I hadn't been bullied for a reason. I was a target because Junseo and his kind needed one. And now, they had successfully turned me into the monster they claimed I was.
The scene shifted abruptly. All the chaos, the betrayals, the false accusations—it was suddenly overshadowed by something far more sinister: the public broadcast of a private, hateful conversation.
The Recording is Played
A mobile phone was held up, its screen black except for a digital timer displaying 00:00:01. A sound wave graphic indicated that a recording was playing. The audio that flooded the silent classroom was loud, clear, and utterly damning. It was the voice of the ringleader, Jaeo, the one who had just destroyed me and his own girlfriend.
"UGHHH, HONESTLY... I KIND OF HATE HANGING OUT WITH THEM. THEY'RE SO DUMB."
A collective intake of breath rippled through the onlookers, whose silhouettes were scattered across the classroom. My shock was complete. Jaeo had orchestrated my ruin, but he was about to face one of his own.
The recording continued, his voice dripping with contempt. "THEY'RE POOR AND STUPID. I FEEL BAD FOR THEIR PARENTS."
The scorn was palpable. He wasn't just talking about a few people; he was speaking about the entire crowd of followers and hangers-on who surrounded him, those who thought they were his allies.
Then came the final, brutal statement, aimed at the girls who idolized him. "THEY CAKE ON SO MUCH MAKEUP ON THEIR UGLY FACES. IT'S EMBARRASSING."
The Tables Turn
The crowd erupted in a furious murmur. Two girls in the foreground, who had just been calling me a "piece of trash," now stared up in dawning realization.
"SHE'S TALKING ABOUT US, ISN'T SHE?!" one gasped, grabbing the other's arm.
The other girl, her face contorted with rage, screamed, "THAT B*TCH!!!" She then dismissed the idea of Jaeo's power. "PFFFT! OH, HER? SHE THINKS SHE'S SO COOL. WHO DOES SHE EVEN THINK SHE IS? SHE ACTS AS IF IF SHE'S BETTER THAN EVERYONE ELSE..."
The final image, the Classroom Motto: BE KIND TO OTHERS, hung innocently on the wall above the raging students. The irony was a bitter punchline to the whole miserable drama.
I watched, numb, as the attention shifted completely away from me. The monster they had created in Seonghee was instantly forgotten because they had found a bigger, truer monster in Jaeo. The architect of my destruction had inadvertently exposed his own corruption, and in doing so, he had become the new villain in their eyes.
I stood in the corner, still the girl who had been framed, still the girl whose body had failed her from stress, but for the first time, I wasn't the sole focus of their hatred. A small, cold part of me felt a flicker of satisfaction. The collapse of his entire social kingdom was the only justice I was ever going to get.
The intense moment where Jaeo's hateful recorded voice was broadcast to the class had completely shifted the focus of the group's fury. The attention was no longer on me, Seonghee, the supposed thief, but on the true source of all the cruelty.
The Boiling Point
Jaeo's voice, captured on the phone, echoed through the stunned classroom. It cut through the silence with a final, brutal insult aimed at his angry female follower, the one who had just called me "trash."
"IT'S LIKE SHE DOESN'T EVEN HAVE A BRAIN. SHE JUST SPEWS DUMB SH*T FROM HER MOUTH ALL DAY."
Above the growing chaos, the Classroom Motto: BE KIND TO OTHERS stood as a stark monument to the hypocrisy consuming the room.
The students, his followers, finally understood the contempt he held them in. A roar of betrayal and rage erupted from the crowd.
A male silhouette stepped forward, shouting. "WOOOW, THIS JUST KEEPS GETTING BETTER AND BETTER."
A girl's enraged scream followed. "MURMUR... YOU AHOLE!! HOW DARE YOU TALK BEHIND OUR BACKS?!"
The collective MURMUR intensified, swirling into an angry mob focused solely on Jaeo.
The Fight and the Revelation
Suddenly, a voice of panic sliced through the chaos: "WAIT, STOP THEM! THEY'RE FIGHTING!"
The crowd surged forward, and in the crush, I saw the students tackling the source of the humiliation.
But the real architects of the chaos, Jaeo and Junseo, stood apart, enjoying the show.
"DAMN, JUNSEO. YOU RECORDED HER SAYING ALL THAT? HAHA!" Jaeo chuckled, clearly entertained by the downfall of his former friend.
Junseo, calm as ever, shrugged off the drama. "WHY BOTHER? JUST LET THEM FIGHT."
It was then I realized the truth: they hadn't planned for that recording to be the main event. They were simply ruthless manipulators, prepared to sacrifice anyone for their own amusement and self-preservation.
My Escape
The crowd became a wrestling mass, their anger now directed at each other. They forgot about me, the "thief." I saw my chance.
As I slipped toward the door, I glanced back and saw the girl in the tracksuit, the one I had once believed in, the one who had been told she was worthless. She was being held back by a few boys from rushing Junseo. She fought their grip, screaming a desperate cry. "LET GO OF ME!!!"
I hesitated for a split second, my initial despair—"WHY ME...? THIS DOESN'T MAKE ANY SENSE. WHY ARE THEY BEING SO MEAN TO ME?"—flashing through my mind.
But then, the final image of that brief, terrifying intervention came back to me. The girl who had looked at me with strange intensity, whose words were the only thing that cut through the darkness: "IT'S NOT OVER YET. DON'T GIVE UP!"
I saw her now, caught in the chaos she had helped create. I was the one free. I had been framed, betrayed, and crushed, but I was not fighting in that mess. I turned, pushing through the door and leaving the sound of their screaming, self-inflicted misery behind me.
It's not over yet. And I wouldn't give up. Not now.
The final wave of noise and chaos was not directed at me, Seonghee, the framed outcast, but at the true tyrants who had now turned on each other. The classroom was a self-destructing cage.
The Teacher is Called
Amidst the screams and the fighting, one voice rose, directed at the quietest figure in the room—the Class President. The girl in the tracksuit, my friend who was betrayed by Junseo, had fled in a desperate panic. She slammed into the wall near the door, a muffled "DASH" that barely registered over the shouting.
"HEY, CLASS PRESIDENT, SHOULDN'T WE TELL THE TEACHER?" someone yelled.
The Class President, the girl who had once offered me that chilling, inspiring comfort—"IT'S NOT OVER YET. DON'T GIVE UP!"—finally acted. She stood up from her desk, her gaze calm but distant, seemingly disconnected from the violence unfolding.
"Y-YEAH! I'LL GO TELL HER..." she murmured, seizing the opportunity to step out of the mess. She glanced at the fighting students, and then, inexplicably, she looked right at me, still hiding in the corner, before she quickly left. Her expression was unreadable—was it pity, or a final warning?
The Traitor's Fall
With the last remnants of order gone, the girl in the tracksuit, my former friend, stumbled back into the fray, tears streaming down her face. She was no longer running; she was fighting. The fury of betrayal gave her strength, but her voice was raw with desperation.
"F**K... WHY ARE YOU ALL BLAMING ME...?" she sobbed, throwing up her arms defensively. "I HAVEN'T DONE ANYTHING WRONG...!"
Her voice was full of genuine pain, but her frantic defense only drew more venom from the crowd who had heard the recording of Jaeo and now saw her as a complicit fool. She stood alone, surrounded by the shadows of her former allies.
Her body started to TREMBLE as she saw the sheer size of the angry mob. In a final, desperate attempt to turn the tide, she yelled a shocking truth into the faces of the self-righteous crowd.
"WHO HERE HAS NEVER TALKED BEHIND SOMEONE'S BACK BEFORE? HUH?!"
The question was a desperate, self-destructive truth. It silenced them for a moment, not because they agreed, but because she had exposed their own hypocrisy. She was not denying her own cruelty, but trying to share the blame that everyone in that toxic room carried.
My Path
I watched the dramatic collapse of their world, the irony a heavy weight in my chest. I, who they had condemned as "trash," was now the only one truly free of the chaos.
The initial feeling of despair returned, the one that had started this entire ordeal: "THIS DOESN'T MAKE ANY SENSE. WHY ME...? WHY ARE THEY BEING SO MEAN TO ME?"
But now, the question had an answer. They were mean to me because they were mean to everyone, including each other. The betrayal and the theft were just excuses.
I slipped out the door, moving in the opposite direction from the Class President. The sounds of their shouting faded behind me. I had lost everything in that room—my dignity, my peace, my supposed friendships—but I had gained something essential: clarity.
They had tried to end me, but as that last, strange ally had whispered in the dark: "IT'S NOT OVER YET." I walked on, carrying my ruin not as a defeat, but as the fuel for whatever came next.
The Darkness Begins
The empty classroom was a suffocating void. I stood alone, surrounded by shadows and the weight of constant cruelty. The thoughts in my head were a desperate, broken refrain: "THIS DOESN'T MAKE ANY SENSE. WHY ME...? WHY ARE THEY BEING SO MEAN TO ME? IT'S NOT MY FAULT."
A figure emerged from the periphery, a girl in a neat uniform. I could only whisper my pain: "WHY...?" She leaned in, her eyes intense and strangely sympathetic, offering the smallest sliver of hope. "IT'S NOT OVER YET. DON'T GIVE UP!"
But the terror was too great. The world spun, and my body finally rebelled. The sound was raw, wretched, and pathetic: GAG. RETCH.
Humiliation and Accusation
My tormentors were unmoved. A male voice sneered, "MURMUR. Did she just retch? I thought she was gonna puke all over the floor." Another added, "UGH, GROSS. EW, THAT'S DISGUSTING... THROWING UP ISN'T GONNA GET YOU OUT OF THIS."
The leader, Jaeo, turned his attention to a stack of boxes, his face serious. "THERE'S TOO MANY SUSPICIOUS ITEMS IN HERE... FOR US TO PRETEND WE DIDN'T SEE ANYTHING."
They had framed me. They produced an envelope, a cell phone, building a case of theft that would utterly destroy me. I stood, trembling, my defense of being called there by Junseo falling apart as he denied it, his eyes cold and empty.
The Boiling Point
Then, the final, vicious betrayal. The girl I had briefly thought was an ally, the one Junseo was dating, was reduced to tears as he casually confessed he pitied her and called her a "piece of sh*t."
The shock was a jolt of pure adrenaline. I erupted, screaming, "YOU STUPID IDIOTS!!!"
Suddenly, the focus shifted. Jaeo's spiteful recorded voice was broadcast, revealing his contempt for all his followers. The crowd turned on him, and the classroom descended into anarchy.
My friend, the one Junseo had just destroyed, was pushed to the brink. Her face was raw with humiliation, her feet beginning to TREMBLE TREMBLE.
She stood there, defiant against the mob she had just been a part of. "SO WHO ARE YOU TO JUDGE ME?!" she screamed.
Then, she threw the final, desperate accusation that revealed the depths of their collective rot. She was talking about her rival, the quiet Class President, who had just left to get a teacher.
"ALSO, SHE IS AN EVEN BIGGER PIECE OF SH*T THAN ME!!! SHE'S THE REAL LOANSHARK, YOU KNOW!! THAT ACCOUNT BOOK WAS HERS ALL ALONG!!!"
The words were shocking, a revelation of a deeper rot beneath the surface of the school's social order. I realized that the first girl who had told me not to give up was not a savior, but just another monster, one with a better mask.
My Escape
The crowd was stunned by this new revelation, their attention completely diverted to the new, bigger scandal.
I glanced over and saw the Class President, the subject of the accusation, standing calmly in the doorway, observing the chaos. One of the onlookers gave a smug, dismissive smile.
"THIS IS HILARIOUS. WHO WOULD EVER BELIEVE HER NOW?" he chuckled, referring to the girl who had just confessed to her own loan shark activities while exposing the Class President. The cycles of bullying and betrayal were endless.
But they had all forgotten me. I was the ghost in the room, the one who had taken the fall and had now been rendered invisible by their infighting. I had lost everything, but I was the only one who had a chance to walk away from the poison
I slipped out the door, the screams and revelations fading behind me. I knew the truth wouldn't save me immediately, but as the one clear voice had whispered: "IT'S NOT OVER YET." I was ruined, but I was alive. And I would not give up.
The Perfect Frame
The classroom was pitch-black around the edges, but the center felt like a stage, the stark light exposing my terror. My entire body felt weak and betrayed. All I could think was a looping, desperate mantra: "THIS DOESN'T MAKE ANY SENSE. WHY ME...? WHY ARE THEY BEING SO MEAN TO ME? IT'S NOT MY FAULT."
A figure emerged, the Class President, looking at me with an unnerving calm. I could only whisper, "WHY...?" Her words were a confusing mixture of encouragement and judgment: "IT'S NOT OVER YET. DON'T GIVE UP!"
But the terror was too much. I doubled over, my stomach revolting. GAG. RETCH.
The other students were unforgiving. "MURMUR. Did she just retch? I thought she was gonna puke all over the floor." A boy in a white shirt, Jaeo, sneered, "EW, THAT'S DISGUSTING... THROWING UP ISN'T GONNA GET YOU OUT OF THIS."
The bullying suddenly twisted into a calculated setup. Jaeo and his followers turned to the back, inspecting my personal storage. "THERE'S TOO MANY SUSPICIOUS ITEMS IN HERE... FOR US TO PRETEND WE DIDN'T SEE ANYTHING."
They found the envelope—the missing class funds. "LOOK! ISN'T THIS THE ENVELOPE THE CLASS PRESIDENT WAS TALKING ABOUT?" Then, my MP3 player. "TOSS. ISN'T THIS YOUR MP3 TOO?" I could feel the blood draining from my face. My hands began to TREMBLE TREMBLE.
Jaeo held up a final piece of evidence, his face cold and triumphant. "OH, AND... ...YOU EVEN STOLE MY PHONE."
The students immediately turned on me. I heard a girl, the one sitting next to Junseo, casually comment, "I DIDN'T REALIZE SHE HAD JAEO'S CELL PHONE... HOW FUNNY."
The crowd's low murmurs solidified into open contempt. "OH MY GOD, SHE REALLY WAS THE THIEF! WHAT A PIECE OF TRASH... HEY, SEONGHEE! YOU PIECE OF SH*T!!"
The Message and the Real Lie
My desperate pleas and my story about being called to the classroom by Junseo were ignored, and the truth became my execution.
But as I stood convicted, the focus of the girl in the tracksuit shifted. She began to shout, no longer at me, but at the true criminals. She had found something on one of the phones.
"DON'T LIE! I SAW THE TEXT ON YOUR PHONE!" she screamed, pointing an accusing finger. "I WENT THROUGH YOUR PHONE AND SAW A MESSAGE FROM THE OWNER OF THE ACCOUNT BOOK SAYING THAT THEY WERE IN THE NURSE'S OFFICE!"
Her face was frantic with revelation. "THE ONLY PEOPLE IN OUR CLASS THAT WENT TO THE NURSE'S OFFICE THAT DAY THAT DAY WAS HER AND JUNSEO..."
Then came a devastating counter-argument from Jaeo, slicing through her evidence with cold logic. He didn't deny the phone, but he dismissed her thinking.
"WHAT?! YOU DO REALIZE THE NURSE'S OFFICE IS ACCESSIBLE TO EVERYONE WHO GOES TO THIS SCHOOL, RIGHT? THAT INCLUDES KIDS IN OTHER CLASSES AND GRADES."
He leaned in, his voice dripping with condescension. "OR ARE YOU SO PATHETIC THAT YOUR WORLD REVOLVES AROUND JUNSEO AND HER?"
The girl had one final, fatal piece of information. She shouted the full truth, not just about the Class President, but about the text itself.
The phone showed an image of the person who sent the message. It wasn't Junseo. The girl who made the shocking discovery, eyes wide with horror, spat out the final conclusion: "...AND THE MESSAGE WASN'T FROM JUNSEO'S NUMBER. SO WHO ELSE COULD IT BE?! IT WAS OBVIOUSLY HER!!!"
Jaeo, seeing his ally's breakdown, simply shook his head, a final, weary gesture of contempt for everyone around him. "WOW, YOU'RE A REAL DUMBASS, AREN'T YOU?"
I stood in the corner, forgotten, watching the powerful tear each other down. They had successfully framed me, but in doing so, they had consumed themselves with their own hatred. I had been condemned as a thief, but the real criminals—Jaeo, Junseo, and the Class President—had finally begun their own self-destruction. And I was the only one in the room with a chance to escape it.
The Collapse of My World
The classroom was a suffocating world of shadows and judgment. The internal turmoil was deafening: "THIS DOESN'T MAKE ANY SENSE. WHY ME...? WHY ARE THEY BEING SO MEAN TO ME? IT'S NOT MY FAULT." I stood there, utterly broken, until a girl—the Class President—approached with a strange calm. I could only whisper, "WHY...?" She offered an unsettling encouragement: "IT'S NOT OVER YET. DON'T GIVE UP!"
But the humiliation was complete. My body betrayed me with a desperate GAG and RETCH. The other students were merciless, their murmurs cold and dismissive: "MURMUR. Did she just retch? I thought she was gonna puke all over the floor. Ugh, gross."
The leader, Jaeo, stepped forward. "EW, THAT'S DISGUSTING... THROWING UP ISN'T GONNA GET YOU OUT OF THIS." He and his followers turned to the boxes, building the case that would destroy me. "THERE'S TOO MANY SUSPICIOUS ITEMS IN HERE... FOR US TO PRETEND WE DIDN'T SEE ANYTHING."
They produced the envelope—the class funds. "LOOK! ISN'T THIS THE ENVELOPE THE CLASS PRESIDENT WAS TALKING ABOUT?" Then, my MP3 player. A girl in the tracksuit gave it a TOSS. "ISN'T THIS YOUR MP3 TOO?" My hands began to TREMBLE TREMBLE.
Jaeo delivered the final, calculated lie: "OH, AND... ...YOU EVEN STOLE MY PHONE." The Class President, sitting nearby, casually remarked, "I DIDN'T REALIZE SHE HAD JAEO'S CELL PHONE... HOW FUNNY."
The crowd erupted into collective judgment. "OH MY GOD, SHE REALLY WAS THE THIEF! WHAT A PIECE OF TRASH... HEY, SEONGHEE! YOU PIECE OF SH*T!!"
The Futility of Truth
With a furious GRIT of my teeth, I fought back. "SHUT UP, YOU JERKS!! HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO SAY THIS?! I'M NOT THE THIEF!!"
I desperately tried to tell them the truth: "I WAS ONLY IN THE CLASSROOM TO HANG OUT WITH JUNSEO! JUNSEO TOLD ME TO SKIP P.E. AND COME TO THE CLASSROOM!"
But Junseo, the boy I considered my friend, denied me completely. The girl next to him dismissed my plea: "WHAT IS SHE EVEN TALKING ABOUT? I BET SHE'S LYING." Jaeo and Junseo then confirmed their conspiracy, casually exchanging low MURMURs about their next move.
Junseo delivered the final, chilling verdict: "I NEVER ASKED YOU TO SKIP CLASS AND MEET ME IN HERE. WHY WOULD I WANT TO BE ALONE WITH YOU? I WAS IN THE EQUIPMENT ROOM IN THE GYM... HELPING THE P.E. CHAIR."
The girl in the tracksuit, my friend who was now utterly confused, stammered, "YOU'RE JOKING, RIGHT? W-WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT...?"
Junseo looked directly at me, his eyes dead. "YOU DID THIS TO YOURSELF, SEONGHEE. YOU SHOULD HAVE LEFT HER ALONE."
The Contagion of Chaos
The girl, now betrayed by her boyfriend, turned her confusion into misplaced rage at me. "I'M SO CONFUSED... I DON'T KNOW HOW TO GET OUT OF THIS..." She yelled a fresh, frantic accusation at me, the victim: "ALSO, NOW THAT I THINK ABOUT IT, THIS IS SERIOUSLY PISSING ME OFF! NOT ONLY DID YOU STEAL MY PHONE, BUT YOU ALSO WENT AND LOOKED THROUGH MY MESSAGE! YOU'RE A LIAR, A THIEF, AND A SNOOP!"
She was hysterical, her eyes full of tears. "F**K... OKAY, SO WHAT?!!"
In her final, desperate, self-destructive act, she shifted her fury to the Class President. "DOING THIS TO ME DOESN'T CHANGE THE FACT THAT THE CLASS PRESIDENT IS THE REAL PIECE OF SH*T!! I SAW IT ALL!!!" She claimed to have witnessed a far more scandalous secret: "I SAW HER AND THE ART TEACHER HOLDING HANDS AND WHISPERING".
The chaos was complete. My original accusation was forgotten, replaced by a cycle of betrayal and exposure. I was forgotten, the victim lost in the noise of the victimizers consuming themselves. I slipped away, knowing that while I had been ruined, I was the only one truly free of the moral filth that defined that room.
The Frame is Set
The classroom was a dark, suffocating box, and I felt the weight of every toxic gaze. My mind raced in a desperate, broken loop: "THIS DOESN'T MAKE ANY SENSE. WHY ME...? WHY ARE THEY BEING SO MEAN TO ME? IT'S NOT MY FAULT." I looked up, asking the silent Class President, "WHY...?" Her unsettlingly calm reply was an eerie prediction: "IT'S NOT OVER YET. DON'T GIVE UP!"
But the fear and humiliation were too great. I doubled over, my body failing me: GAG. RETCH. The cruelty of the others was instant and absolute. "MURMUR... Did she just retch? I thought she was gonna puke all over the floor. Ugh, gross." Jaeo, the ringleader, sneered, "EW, THAT'S DISGUSTING... THROWING UP ISN'T GONNA GET YOU OUT OF THIS."
He then engineered my destruction, finding "evidence" in the boxes behind him. "THERE'S TOO MANY SUSPICIOUS ITEMS IN HERE... FOR US TO PRETEND WE DIDN'T SEE ANYTHING." They held up the class funds envelope: "LOOK! ISN'T THIS THE ENVELOPE THE CLASS PRESIDENT WAS TALKING ABOUT?" Then, my own MP3 player: "TOSS. ISN'T THIS YOUR MP3 TOO?" My hands began to TREMBLE TREMBLE.
The final lie was delivered by Jaeo, with cold satisfaction: "OH, AND... ...YOU EVEN STOLE MY PHONE." The Class President confirmed the lie, casually remarking, "I DIDN'T REALIZE SHE HAD JAEO'S CELL PHONE... HOW FUNNY." The crowd's judgment sealed my fate: "OH MY GOD, SHE REALLY WAS THE THIEF! WHAT A PIECE OF TRASH... HEY, SEONGHEE! YOU PIECE OF SH*T!!"
The Betrayal and the Collapse
With a furious GRIT of my teeth, I screamed the truth: "SHUT UP, YOU JERKS!! HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO SAY THIS?! I'M NOT THE THIEF!!" I pleaded, "I WAS ONLY IN THE CLASSROOM TO HANG OUT WITH JUNSEO! JUNSEO TOLD ME TO SKIP P.E. AND COME TO THE CLASSROOM!"
But Junseo betrayed me completely, denying my story, while the girl next to him dismissed it: "WHAT IS SHE EVEN TALKING ABOUT? I BET SHE'S LYING."
Jaeo and the girl I had just pleaded with exchanged knowing MURMURs, confirming their alliance against me.
Junseo delivered the final cut: "I NEVER ASKED YOU TO SKIP CLASS AND MEET ME IN HERE. WHY WOULD I WANT TO BE ALONE WITH YOU? I WAS IN THE EQUIPMENT ROOM IN THE GYM... HELPING THE P.E. CHAIR." The girl in the tracksuit, his girlfriend, looked at him in shock: "YOU'RE JOKING, RIGHT? W-WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT...?" Junseo then twisted the knife toward me: "YOU DID THIS TO YOURSELF, SEONGHEE. YOU SHOULD HAVE LEFT HER ALONE." She turned on him, screaming, "HOW COULD YOU...? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?! YOU'RE MY BOYFRIEND!!"
Junseo's response was a chilling dismissal of her entire existence: "I ONLY DATED YOU BECAUSE YOU BEGGED ME TO... I PITIED YOU. THAT'S ALL." He casually put his hand in his pocket with a SLIDE, adding, "BUT EVEN IN THE SHORT TIME I'VE BEEN WITH YOU, I COULDN'T HELP BUT NOTICE WHAT A PIECE OF SH*T YOU ARE..."
Justice in Anarchy
Suddenly, the attention shifted entirely. A recording played from a phone, broadcasting Jaeo's hateful voice, speaking about the students who adored him: "UGHHH, HONESTLY... I KIND OF HATE HANGING OUT WITH THEM. THEY'RE SO DUMB. THEY'RE POOR AND STUPID. I FEEL BAD FOR THEIR PARENTS."
The crowd erupted. "SHE'S TALKING ABOUT US, ISN'T SHE?! THAT B*TCH!!!" They shouted, "PFFFT! OH, HER? SHE THINKS SHE'S SO COOL. WHO DOES SHE EVEN THINK SHE IS? SHE ACTS AS IF IF SHE'S BETTER THAN EVERYONE ELSE..." Jaeo's recorded contempt was merciless: "IT'S LIKE SHE DOESN'T EVEN HAVE A BRAIN. SHE JUST SPEWS DUMB SH*T FROM HER MOUTH ALL DAY."
The room dissolved into a brawl. Jaeo and Junseo stood back, observing the chaos they had manufactured. "DAMN, JUNSEO. YOU RECORDED HER SAYING ALL THAT? HAHA!" Junseo simply replied, "WHY BOTHER? JUST LET THEM FIGHT."
The girl, now hysterical, turned her accusations to the Class President. "THE ART TEACHER MUST BE STUPID... TO LOVE A SLUT LIKE YOU!!" She screamed, pointing: "YOU TWO ARE BOTH F**KING MESSED UP!!!" She claimed to have witnessed the scandal: "I SAW HER AND THE ART TEACHER HOLDING HANDS AND WHISPERING ABOUT LOVING EACH OTHER!!! I SAW IT WITH MY OWN TWO EYES!!" Then, the final, desperate lunge: "WHY DON'T YOU TRY AND DENY THIS TOO, HUH?! YOU EVEN TOLD HIM THAT HE'S YOUR TRUE LOVE, YOU F**KING SLUT!!!"
I watched the Class President, the subject of this horrible revelation, standing by the door, impassive and untouchable. The entire social structure had crumbled. I was the one they had sought to destroy, but in their greed for power and attention, they had utterly destroyed each other. I was forgotten, invisible, and finally, free to leave the ruins of their miserable game.
The Unraveling
The classroom felt like a nightmare, dark and suffocating. My thoughts, an endless, desperate loop, echoed in my head: "THIS DOESN'T MAKE ANY SENSE. WHY ME...? WHY ARE THEY BEING SO MEAN TO ME? IT'S NOT MY FAULT." I was broken, and when the Class President approached me, I could only whisper, "WHY...?" Her face was strangely composed as she offered a chilling piece of advice: "IT'S NOT OVER YET. DON'T GIVE UP!"
But my body had already given up. I doubled over, the sound of my despair loud and pathetic: GAG. RETCH. The other students were relentless, their cruel whispers cutting through the moment: "MURMUR. Did she just retch? I thought she was gonna puke all over the floor. Ugh, gross."
Jaeo, the ringleader, sneered, "EW, THAT'S DISGUSTING... THROWING UP ISN'T GONNA GET YOU OUT OF THIS." He and his cohorts quickly orchestrated the frame-up, finding my MP3 player and the class funds envelope—all "suspicious items". I felt a frantic TREMBLE TREMBLE as the evidence piled up.
The final, damning piece of proof came from Jaeo: "OH, AND... ...YOU EVEN STOLE MY PHONE". The Class President, sitting with Junseo, dismissed me with a cold laugh: "I DIDN'T REALIZE SHE HAD JAEO'S CELL PHONE... HOW FUNNY." The mob's conviction sealed my fate: "OH MY GOD, SHE REALLY WAS THE THIEF! WHAT A PIECE OF TRASH... HEY, SEONGHEE! YOU PIECE OF SH*T!!"
Betrayal on Betrayal
With a GRIT of my teeth, I fought back. "SHUT UP, YOU JERKS!! HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO SAY THIS?! I'M NOT THE THIEF!!" I pointed at Junseo, the boy I thought was my friend, shouting my defense: "I WAS ONLY IN THE CLASSROOM TO HANG OUT WITH JUNSEO! JUNSEO TOLD ME TO SKIP P.E. AND COME TO THE CLASSROOM! JUST ASK HIM IF YOU DON'T BELIEVE ME!"
Junseo's new girlfriend instantly dismissed me: "WHAT IS SHE EVEN TALKING ABOUT? I BET SHE'S LYING." Jaeo and the girl exchanged knowing MURMURs, securing the lie.
Junseo delivered the final blow, denying my reality: "I NEVER ASKED YOU TO SKIP CLASS AND MEET ME IN HERE. WHY WOULD I WANT TO BE ALONE WITH YOU? I WAS IN THE EQUIPMENT ROOM IN THE GYM... HELPING THE P.E. CHAIR."
The shock broke his own girlfriend. "YOU'RE JOKING, RIGHT? W-WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT...?" Junseo twisted the knife, blaming me for her pain: "YOU DID THIS TO YOURSELF, SEONGHEE. YOU SHOULD HAVE LEFT HER ALONE." The girl turned on him: "HOW COULD YOU...? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?! YOU'RE MY BOYFRIEND!!"
Junseo revealed his chilling narcissism: "I ONLY DATED YOU BECAUSE YOU BEGGED ME TO... I PITIED YOU. THAT'S ALL." He casually put his hand in his pocket with a SLIDE, adding, "BUT EVEN IN THE SHORT TIME I'VE BEEN WITH YOU, I COULDN'T HELP BUT NOTICE WHAT A PIECE OF SH*T YOU ARE..."
Anarchy and Escape
In a fit of rage, the heartbroken girl screamed, "YOU STUPID IDIOTS!!!"
Suddenly, a recording played from a phone, showcasing Jaeo's hatred for all his followers: "UGHHH, HONESTLY... I KIND OF HATE HANGING OUT WITH THEM. THEY'RE SO DUMB. THEY'RE POOR AND STUPID. I FEEL BAD FOR THEIR PARENTS." And later: "IT'S LIKE SHE DOESN'T EVEN HAVE A BRAIN. SHE JUST SPEWS DUMB SH*T FROM HER MOUTH ALL DAY."
The crowd instantly turned their fury on Jaeo. "WOOOW, THIS JUST KEEPS GETTING BETTER AND BETTER. MURMUR. YOU A**HOLE!! HOW DARE YOU TALK BEHIND OUR BACKS?!"
A fight broke out: "WAIT, STOP THEM! THEY'RE FIGHTING!" Junseo and Jaeo stood aside, amused: "DAMN, JUNSEO. YOU RECORDED HER SAYING ALL THAT? HAHA! WHY BOTHER? JUST LET THEM FIGHT."
The betrayed girl in the tracksuit, trying to escape the new mob, gave a desperate DASH towards the door. She then turned back, screaming, "F**K... WHY ARE YOU ALL BLAMING ME...? I HAVEN'T DONE ANYTHING WRONG...!"
She threw out the ultimate defense, a desperate admission of shared guilt: "WHO HERE HAS NEVER TALKED BEHIND SOMEONE'S BACK BEFORE? HUH?!" Her feet began to TREMBLE TREMBLE.
The girl who had been trying to flee was then targeted. I saw the flash of an attack—WHISH—followed by a sickening SLAP. The final, desperate girl was struck down.
The chaos reached its peak, and I, the forgotten scapegoat, saw my chance. I saw the Class President standing calmly near the door while another student dismissed the frantic accusations, saying, "THIS IS HILARIOUS. WHO WOULD EVER BELIEVE HER NOW?" The toxic world they built had consumed itself.
I slipped away, leaving the shouts and the violence behind. They had ruined my reputation, but in doing so, they had revealed their true selves and shattered their own world. I walked away, holding on to the chilling promise: "IT'S NOT OVER YET."