EPISODE FOURTY SIX 46: I'M SORRY.

ANNA'S POV

Thirty unread messages and counting—Julian still hadn’t spoken to me since the incident. I felt like a terrible person. And honestly, who wouldn’t agree? I made my own brother cry.

If only he believed that I hadn’t told Hadizah she was a bet, everything would still be okay. But now, everything is so f*cking messed up.

The latest news was about Tim Grant, a Black man shot by the police for no justifiable reason. He lost his life, and later, it was revealed that those cops were just racist.

As I stepped into school, graffiti covered the walls. Black Lives Matter was painted in bold letters. The school was upside down, students leading their own protests. Everything just kept getting worse.

But as bad as this was, I had my own issues to deal with.

I headed to the bathroom to freshen up, when I was in the bathroom,  I heard voices.

"I think the Petros are getting weaker. Imagine Julian sulking around, giving Hadizah chocolates, homemade cakes, and flowers just to prove he’s sorry. That’s low."

I recognized Tracy’s voice instantly. That girl never knew when to shut up.

"Seriously. He did worse to Han Na and didn’t do any of this for her. He’s done this to multiple girls. This shouldn't have been different," Bianca added.

"Hmmm, true. But you need to be careful. If Anna finds out you told Hadizah about the bet, you’re dead. Trust me," Tracy warned.

"She won’t find out. Just keep your mouth shut, okay? So zip it."

That was enough. I kicked the stall door open.

"An… Anna! I didn’t know you were there," Bianca stuttered.

"That was the bone of contention, you idiot. You made my brother hate me! I would never want to hurt my family, and yet you made me do it," I snapped, grabbing her hair so tightly it nearly came off.

"What the fck, Anna? Let go of me!"* she yelled, pulling away with force.

"You’re just a bitchy brat, and I swear, I’ll make you fcking pay,"* I said, anger surging through me.

"You know what? I’m sick and tired of people tiptoeing around you. You make everyone feel worthless—your family, me, Tracy. Are we just here to do your bidding? And let’s not forget Chase, who’s been after you like a lost puppy, and you used and dumped him like toilet paper."

Her words stung, but I masked my emotions with rage.

"You have no right to speak about my family, okay? So just shut the hell up!" I spat.

"You think just because a doctor diagnosed you as crazy, it excuses your behavior? You’re still a bitch, period," she said, opening the door. "And Anna? Fck you."*

Then she walked out.

I stood there, stunned. How could she say something so harsh? But I wasn’t going to cry—not over a girl whose net worth wasn’t even half of mine.

She would regret it.

I’d make sure of it.

I needed someone. Someone to hold on to.

I needed Chase.

---

I found him in the piano room, playing like he always did. His fingers glided over the keys, creating something hauntingly beautiful. I sat beside him, and as usual, he shifted nervously.

"What are you doing here, Anna? I thought you said we should go our separate ways," he said.

" Maybe I just need someone to hold on too, maybe you are the one I need,"I said

I loved Chase. He was the only one who never got bored of my tantrums, the only one who knew exactly what I needed when I needed it. He wasn’t as cool as the other boys—he had acne, was skinny, read too much, and was a total nerd.

But he was my nerd.

Then it happened, tears, tears spilled down my cheeks.

"My life is seriously messed up, Chase," I sobbed.

"No, Anna, you’re not messed up. You’re a lot of things, but that isn’t one of them. I’m here for you," he reassured me.

"Tell me other things that I am, Chase," I asked, almost childlike.

"You’re beautiful. You’re smart. You throw tantrums when you don’t get what you want. And… you’re the girl I like."

"You still like me? After everything I did? I threw flowers at you, I called you illegitimate, I called you a dick—"

Before I could finish, his lips were on mine.

The kiss was unexpected, sweet, and soft. He tasted like ice cream.

When we pulled apart, I was breathless. He looked away, nervously fondling his glasses.

"I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. I promise it won’t happen again," he apologized.

"Chase, I like you too. I was just scared of being with someone so flawed. I didn’t realize your flaws are what make you unique. I like all of you," I admitted, my voice soft.

I saw fireworks in his eyes.

"I like you too, Anna. Very much," he whispered.

And then, another kiss.

Sweet, soft, and dangerously beautiful.

---

HADIZAH'S POV

"These whites will never cease to amaze me. See how that man was killed for nothing. What are they going to tell his family?" my mum lamented, eyes glued to the TV.

The ongoing news was about Tim Grant—the man who was unjustly killed. He didn’t deserve it, and he was the breadwinner for a family of six.

"Not all of them, Mum," I replied, finishing my cereal. "But you’re right, some are just ignorant. Even if skin color determined greatness, I’d still choose Black. Even Jesus was a Black man."

"Wisely said. But who would you sit down and start telling that Jesus was Black? He’s already been depicted as white," my mum said, shaking her head.

"Exactly. I just hope the protest goes peacefully and no student goes haywire. If anybody tries nonsense, I won’t hesitate—because even school is chaotic right now."

"Be careful, Adunni. Some people deserve to be ignored," she warned, before handing me a gift box. "I actually got this for you earlier, but after your boyfriend’s issue, I decided to give it to you later."

When I opened it, I found a beautiful ring—a delicate, intricate design that sparkled. It was so stunning that I didn’t even want to wear it. I squealed in happiness.

"Thank you so much, Mummy! This is so beautiful—I can’t even begin to thank you. I love it," I said, hugging her tightly.

"It’s fine, you deserve beautiful things, okay? Because you are beautiful. By the way, when did you get that bracelet back? I thought you lost it in Australia."

"Yeah, I did, but Jamal brought it back for me. Actually, Mum, how did I get this bracelet again?"

She smiled, reminiscing. "We went on a vacation to America when you were about four. You had just gotten a scar on your neck and would cry about how ugly it looked. We met this lovely family there—four children. The eldest son was about ten, then there were twins—a boy and a girl—and a newborn baby girl."

"That sounds like a lovely family—they’re almost like us," I said, intrigued.

"True. You met the twin boy, and he and his sister gave you the third part of their friendship bracelet. When put together, it forms a necklace, and only your fingerprints can open it. It was a cool necklace and worth a lot of money—their father owned a mining industry."

"That’s actually kinda cool. I love it when jewelry links people together—it sounds so fantastic. Do you remember anything else about them?" I asked.

"Not really, it’s been over ten years. But I remember the girl’s name started with a J. Her mum kept calling her a particular name—once I remember, I’ll be sure to tell you."

I slid the ring onto my index finger. It looked perfect.

I checked the time and realized I was almost late for school.

"Bye, Mummy. See you later!" I called, rushing out the door—but not before giving her one last hug.

---

AT SCHOOL

"Hey there, bestie!" I said, slinging my arm around Ava’s shoulder.

"You’re late, Habibi," she teased.

"Got caught up in Mum's stories, and this time it was kinda cool," I replied.

"Tell me about it later, but we need to get to class. By the way, your ring looks cool," she said, eyeing my hand.

"Thanks! Mum got it for me."

I glanced around at the graffiti covering every wall. "God, these students take things too far. This should’ve been a peaceful protest—not vandalizing the whole school."

"No, they deserve it. That man was killed for no reason. The rate of racism, sexism, and Islamophobia happening right now is alarming. I can’t even begin to fathom it—it’s all just fucked up," Ava responded, frustration clear in her voice.

"I know, I know. It’s a bad thing. And we have Mr. Lois first period," I groaned.

"Seriously? Man, I hate that guy. He’s a big part of this issue. Some students want him off the school grounds—the man’s a psycho."

"Let’s just head to class. I don’t want any trouble, abeg," I said.

"What language is that again? You have to teach me one day, okay?"

"Definitely. But first, class."

"Yes, Captain," she mocked, and we both headed to class.

---

Michael’s head was down—even in class. It looked like he’d been crying. Every now and then, Ethan would glance at him before looking away.

"Williams, I would appreciate it if you acted like a proper student and engaged in class instead of acting like someone died. You just love causing problems, don’t you?" Mr. Lois sneered.

Instead of responding, Michael sucked his teeth and put in his earbuds. It was strange—Michael usually stayed away from trouble. This wasn’t like him.

"I will not tolerate such nonsense in my class! Sooner or later, they start complaining that their lives matter—they always end up dying useless in the end," Mr. Lois spat.

"Yeah, that’s what all you stupid racists do," Michael shot back.

"Michael, stop it," I urged, feeling the tension rise.

"Leave him alone—Mr. Lois deserves it," Ava said defiantly.

"Blacks are always beneath us," Lucy muttered before realizing her best friend, Maya, was Black.

"Lucy, what the fuck does that mean?" Maya asked, shocked.

"Well, it is what it is," Lucy shrugged.

"Fuck you," Maya snapped back.

"Silence, you breed of uncultured dimwits!" Mr. Lois barked. "Williams, Mavis, Damilare—out of my class!"

"But I didn’t do anything wrong," I protested.

"Are you answering back at me?" he challenged.

"No, sir," I replied, holding my tongue.

"Then take your damn leave," he said coldly. "Go continue your rogue and useless protests outside."

"You know what, Mr. Lois? Fuck you and fuck all the haters. Give me detention or suspension—I don’t really give a fuck anymore," Michael declared, storming out. The class was stunned—Michael never used the f-word, like, ever.

I rushed out after him. "Michael, what the hell is going on with you?"

"Nothing. Just mind your business, Hadizah," he snapped.

"That’s not fair, okay? We said we’d get through things together," I reminded him.

"Maybe you’re not someone I want to share my feelings with, okay? So just fuck off," he said, shoving his hands into his pockets as he walked away.

Michael had just told me off—he yelled at me and insulted me. I didn’t know why, but a tear slipped down my cheek. I felt like I didn’t deserve this.

---

MAYA’S POV

"Blacks are always beneath us," Lucy muttered under her breath.

I froze.

My best friend—someone I had trusted, laughed with, shared secrets with—had just said that.

"Lucy, what the fuck does that mean?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, my heart pounding.

Her expression remained indifferent. "Well, it is what it is," she shrugged, as if her words meant nothing.

I could feel my blood boiling. "Fuck you," I spat.

The class fell silent. All eyes were on us.

"Silence, you breed of uncultured dimwits!" Mr. Lois snapped, pulling the attention back to him. "Williams, Mavis, Damilare—out of my class!"

"But I didn’t do anything wrong," Hadizah protested.

"Are you questioning my authority?"

"No, sir," she muttered, looking away.

"Then take your damn leave. Go continue your rogue and useless protests outside."

That’s when Michael snapped.

"You know what, Mr. Lois? Fuck you and fuck all the haters. Give me detention or suspension—I don’t really give a fuck anymore," he said before storming out.

The entire class was stunned. Michael never cursed—ever.

Hadizah rushed out after him, and I could feel something heavy settle in my chest. I wanted to go too, but I wasn’t done here.

I turned to Lucy, my supposed best friend.

"So, that’s how you really feel?" I asked, my voice shaking.

"Maya, you’re being dramatic," she said, rolling her eyes. "I didn’t mean it like that—"

"No, Lucy. You meant exactly what you said," I cut her off. "You actually think that because you’re white, you’re somehow better than me?"

She sighed, as if she was tired of explaining. "It’s just... history, Maya. White people built this country—"

"No, we built this country. On our backs, with our blood, while people like you sat back and took credit."

Her face twisted in annoyance. "Why do you always have to bring race into everything?"

I let out a bitter laugh. "Because people like you never let us forget it."

Ava, who had been quiet until now, leaned in. "You do realize your entire best friend group is Black, right?" she said, glaring at Lucy.

Lucy folded her arms. "I didn’t mean you guys, okay? I was just talking in general. You know I love you, Maya."

"Don’t," I said firmly. "Don’t act like this is nothing. You just insulted my entire race like it was a fact—like it was something you truly believe."

Lucy hesitated, then scoffed. "Whatever. You’re overreacting."

I felt something inside me crack. This was the girl I had spent years defending, standing up for, choosing over other friends. But in the end, I was just another Black girl to her.

"We’re done, Lucy," I said, standing up.

"Oh, come on, Maya—"

"I said we’re done."

Without another word, I grabbed my bag and walked out of the classroom, my heart pounding in my chest.

For the first time in years, I felt completely alone.

*******

Fuck life.

Fuck me.

Fuck Lucy.

She was my best fucking friend, yet she said something so disgusting, so vile, so... unforgivable.

I wanted to cry, but at the same time, I didn’t. I hadn’t had a proper cry in a long time—not since I killed my sister.

Makayla.

The only person who ever truly gave a fuck about me.

"I miss you so much, Makayla," I whispered into my lap as I curled up, my body shaking. And for the first time in years, I let myself cry.

I cried until my chest ached, until my eyes burned, until I could barely breathe.

"Are you okay?"

A soft, babyish voice pulled me out of my misery. I lifted my head to see Hadizah standing there, concern written all over her face.

"What do you want?" I snapped, wiping my eyes.

"I just thought to ask if you were okay," she said, her voice careful.

"Fuck off, Hadizah. Run off to your boyfriend," I spat, immediately regretting it.

Her face hardened. "You know what? I’m done trying to please everyone. I’m done trying to be on everyone’s good side. Screw yourself, Maya. I’m done."

She turned to leave, but I grabbed her wrist.

"I’m sorry," I choked out. "I’m so sorry. For everything I’ve done to you. For not telling you about Julian sooner. For making your life a complete nightmare. I think we should be friends."

Hadizah hesitated. "I forgive you, Maya. But I need time. For now, let’s just be acquaintances, okay?"

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat.

"Do you want to tell me why you were crying?" she asked.

I hesitated. "I don’t want to bore you."

"It’s nothing. Tell me," she insisted.

"You might want to take a seat."

---

FLASHBACK

"I love you, and I will never leave you," I said, grinning at Makayla. "You’re the best sister in the world."

"I love you too," she giggled.

"We’re going to have the best Christmas this year! Let’s go get our gifts!"

"Hey! I’m your brother too, okay?" our younger brother whined.

Makayla and I laughed. "We know, and we love you," I said.

For a moment, everything was perfect.

Then it all fell apart.

---

"Where the fuck did you keep my pendant?!" I shouted at Makayla.

"I’m sorry! I’ll go look for it, okay?" she said, panicked.

"You better. I don’t care."

---

Hours later, I was at the hospital, my hands shaking, my heart in my throat.

"Where is my sister?" I sobbed.

The doctor’s face was grim. "She’s in the emergency ward. She’s in critical condition. We can only pray."

"No! I need to see her! I need to tell her I’m sorry! That I didn’t mean anything I said!" I screamed, trying to push past the doctors.

Dad held me back. "You can’t go in, Amaya. She’ll be fine—"

"Stop lying to me!" I shrieked.

---

Hours later, the doctor finally nodded. "You can see her now."

I ran in.

She looked so small, so pale, bruises and cuts covering her face.

All because of a stupid pendant.

I grabbed her hand, my tears falling onto her skin. "I’m so sorry, Makayla," I whispered.

She gave me a weak smile. "It’s fine... I found your pendant. I love you so much, Maya."

Then she exhaled one last time.

And she was gone.

---

I never forgave myself.

I ended up in a mental health center, trapped in a prison of my own guilt. But even then, I knew the truth.

It wasn’t just my fault.

It was those racist mobs. Those monsters who killed her like she was nothing. The same kind of people who killed Donald Myers years ago.

If they hadn’t started their senseless violence, I would still have my sister.

Makayla would still be here. Holding me. Laughing with me.

I broke down again, my cries echoing through the empty hallway.

That’s when we heard it.

Hadizah and I ran into the school hallway. A locker had been knocked over. Graffiti covered every inch of the walls—vile words, slurs, threats.

This was it.

History was repeating itself.

This was how my sister died.

If we didn’t stop it, this would become a revolution. And not the kind that changes the world—the kind that burns it to the ground.

I clenched my fists and turned to the crowd.

"What the fuck is wrong with all of you?!" I screamed.

One kid sneered. "They fucking deserve it."

Others nodded in agreement.

I shook my head. "Yeah? They deserve it? And what happens next? You think fighting fire with fire is going to fix anything? The whole world will burn!"

"They started it!" another shouted.

"Then let’s be the ones to finish it!" I shot back. "We need to understand that Europe will never fully be a Black man’s country. We will never be fully accepted. But that doesn’t mean we destroy ourselves. We have to make our own lives better—ourselves."

A kid in the crowd scoffed. "They killed your sister. From what I heard, you should be the angriest of all."

I swallowed hard. "She’s gone. And I miss her every damn day. But I’m not going to cry over spilled milk. If you want to keep this war going, go ahead. But people who truly change the world don’t cause chaos—they stop it."

Silence.

Then I felt a hand on my shoulder.

Hadizah.

I looked at her, and she nodded.

"It’s fine," she mouthed.

We walked away together, leaving the chaos behind.

---

When I got home, Dad was sitting on the couch, reading a newspaper, his glasses barely staying on his nose.

I carefully took them and placed them on the shelf.

"Amaya, you’re back. Come sit with me," he said.

On a normal day, I would have declined and locked myself in my room. But today, I sat beside him and rested my head against his chest.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I’m fine. And… I’m sorry. For everything. For putting you and Mom through so much."

He sighed and kissed my forehead. "We’re sorry too. But it’s never too late to change."

My throat tightened. "I really want to change, Dad."

"And we will help you every step of the way," he promised.

I closed my eyes, tears slipping down my cheeks. "I love you, Dad."

"I love you too, honey."

And for the first time in a long time, I felt like maybe—just maybe—I could find myself again.

Maybe not all was lost.

WRITER'S NOTE.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

QOTD :

Don't sell the sun to buy a candle.