WHAT SHE STARTED...CHAPTER EIGHT - by Khadijah Mohammed

Six months ago Eni was thirteen. Quiet, the kind of quiet that made her easy to overlook in a hallway full of louder, brighter kids. She kept to the edges of rooms, ate lunch with one or two friends who were just as quiet as she was, raised her hand in class only when she was certain of the answer. But she was bright, and cheerful, and wonderful. Most people at that school could have walked past her a hundred times and never really registered her face. She was my sister. That didn't stop Tessa. Tessa saw Eni. It wasn't always a hate relationship. Tessa would take Eni to places, hang out with her during break, hang out after class. Tessa was sixteen, but Eni didn't care. Until one day, it all changed. Eni stood up to Tessa as she hurt one of her friends. And Eni became the victim. Tessa and her friends started small — a comment in the hallway, a shoulder that "accidentally" knocked her books to the floor, a joke that landed just wrong enough to sting and just deniable enough that no teacher would ever call it what it was. It built from there, the way these things always do when nobody stops them early. By the time Eni was coming home with bruises she explained away as clumsiness, it had already stopped being small. I was a senior then, preparing for the big game, always coming home late. I didn't have time to listen to the latest gossip the school was going through. Now I wish I did. We were close, Eni and I. We would tell each other things — the boy she liked, her struggles in school, her friends. But nothing about Tessa. What we knew was that she and Tessa weren't friends anymore. She would go to school feeling scared and come back feeling exhausted. She started wearing long sleeves to hide her bruises. She would stay in her room longer than she used to. She stopped talking to Mum, to me. Eni got smaller. Her light got dimmer. I tried asking around what happened, but no one said anything. I couldn't ask Tessa — she was never in school. Eni was drowning, and I didn't know. Then one day, I could see a spark in her. She was smiling again. She was always on her phone, but she was smiling. I tried asking her what was going on, and she'd brush me off and say nothing. This went on for three weeks — until I saw a few boys in my gym laughing at a video, and the moment they saw me, they flinched. I asked what was up, and at first, they refused to tell me. One of the other guys pulled me aside and showed me the video. It was Eni. Naked, with a boy. He told me it had gone viral. My legs went weak. I was filled with rage. I needed to find Eni. I had to speak with her. I searched the entire school until I saw her outside, trying to get on her bicycle. She was crying, and the moment she saw me, she ran to me. "I'm sorry... it was Tessa that..." Before she could finish, I pulled her off me. I slapped her. I called her a slut. I told her she was a disgrace, and that she was better off dead. She looked at me like she had lost all hope in life. She said nothing. She walked back to her bicycle and left. She didn't turn around. She didn't say anything. She didn't fight back. I came home later that day and asked where Eni was. Mum said she was in her room. I said okay, had my dinner, and went to my room. The next morning, I was woken by my mother's scream. I jumped up and ran to her. Dad was already there, at Eni's door. She held her to her chest, but Eni didn't move. Didn't speak. No matter how much she shook move, it didnt matter. She looked pale and purple. She was already gone. all that was left was a bottle of pills and letter... I'M SORRY

What She Started

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