Aww Seven Exes Begged Cute Blocked novel Chapter 5

**A Promise Written on the Rusted Edge of Time by Dael Rowan Sire**
**Chapter 5**

The relentless torment began to take a toll on me, and the bullying escalated in ways I never could have anticipated.

It started innocently enough, or at least as innocently as a cruel note could be. I began to discover nasty little messages scattered across my desk like confetti at a party gone wrong.

“GET OUT. LEECH.”

The handwriting was a chaotic scrawl, jagged and messy, but the intent was unmistakably clear.

“SHAMELESS SLUT.”

This particular note was scrawled in a vivid red marker, as if the writer wanted to ensure their disdain was impossible to ignore. How classy, I thought bitterly.

“STAY AWAY FROM DYLAN.”

Next to this note, someone had taken the liberty to draw a grotesque little bug, its legs splayed out in a way that made my stomach turn.

Initially, I tried to brush it off. I would crumple the notes into tight little balls and toss them into the nearby trash can as if to rid myself of their existence.

But they kept coming. Morning after morning, during lunch, and even after school, they appeared like clockwork. It was as if someone had nothing better to do than to stand vigil over my desk, waiting for the opportune moment to unleash their venomous words.

Then, the situation escalated further. Someone had the audacity to pour black ink all over my textbooks.

My AP Biology book, a labor of love filled with months of notes and highlights, was utterly ruined.

All those hours spent meticulously organizing my thoughts and studying—everything was gone, obliterated in an instant.

The weight of my frustration was crushing.

And as if that weren’t enough, someone had the nerve to shred my assignment, the one I had poured my heart and soul into.

This was no ordinary paper; it accounted for a staggering 20% of our final grade. I had sacrificed three sleepless nights to craft it.

When I finally approached Mrs. Peterson to submit it, all that remained was the cover. Everything else had vanished, leaving me standing there in disbelief.

She looked at me, her brow furrowing in confusion. “Ivy, where’s your paper?”

“I finished it, but someone—”

“But what?” she interrupted, her tone skeptical.

I found myself at a loss for words. How could I explain that someone had deliberately destroyed my work? It sounded like the flimsiest excuse imaginable.

So, I ended up with a zero.

But honestly? The silence was far more painful.

It felt as though I had become a ghost, a mere shadow drifting through the hallways. Kids I had known for years would literally duck into classrooms to avoid me.

It was as if I were radioactive, a pariah in my own school.

In class, the desk beside mine remained perpetually vacant.

If anyone dared to sit there, they would glance at me, their eyes widening in horror, and they would bolt.

“Oh crap, sorry—my friend’s sitting here,” they would say, their voice tinged with a false urgency.

They didn’t even bother to conceal how insincere it sounded.

In the cafeteria, the moment I slid into a seat, my peers would grab their trays and flee.

It was as if my presence alone was enough to send them into a panic, as if being near me for even a heartbeat longer would spell disaster.

One day, I sat down at a table, and the entire group around me cleared out in a heartbeat.

Eight empty seats surrounded me, and I felt the weight of their stares. Whispers filled the air, punctuated by pointed fingers. I kept my head down, mechanically shoving food into my mouth, trying to drown out the noise.

But everything tasted like cardboard, flavorless and bland.

Tears streamed down my cheeks, mingling with my lunch and turning it salty and bitter.

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