Chapter five
The slimy Jam
Elizabeth spun and twirled, her body caught in the mesmerizing pull of a dazzling beam of light that shimmered like liquid gold.
Just as she felt the warmth surrounding her, she collided with something unexpectedly smooth and silky, the sensation sending a cascade of comfort through her.
As she regained her senses, Elizabeth found herself sprawled across a quilted bed adorned with laces. The air was infused with the gentle scent of lavender.
Feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over her, Elizabeth flung herself onto the bed, surrendering to its enchantment. It wasn't her intention to drift off so quickly, but a deep, resonant voice suddenly reverberated within her, echoing through her thoughts like an ancient lullaby, whispering, “Sleep, my darling, sleep to discover.”
The words wrapped around her consciousness, urging her into a realm of dreams brimming with mystery yet to unfold.
She felt a tug in the depths of her stomach, a sudden shiver of chilliness weaved throughout her body, and was unexpectedly replaced by a burning, fiery churn that erupted from her temple.
What sprang forth was a tingle—followed by the sudden coldness and dizziness that fell over her body—not agony, not discomfort, but a cozy and pleasant feeling that was enough to draw her to sleep.
The air she breathed out turned into steam and dissolved into multicolored beams of light that swirled into thin air, into whatnot that disappeared with the wind that swept it away.
Elizabeth closed her eyes lazily and felt the soft breeze blow away her hair, her worries, and her consciousness…
In the dream, Elizabeth was walking to the university in her usual lace dress and her glittering high heels; her hair was drawn into a tight bun at the back of her head, and she wore a pair of sunglasses, the lenses of which reflected glorious lights across the surface. She flung her bag over her shoulder as she entered the university.
Vibrant banners danced energetically in the warm breeze, their rich reds, bright blues, and sunny yellows swirling together like a rainbow caught in a joyous whirl. The cheerful laughter of the seniors bounced off the walls, a harmonious melody that echoed through the sunlit corridors.
Outside, the sun blazed down mercilessly, setting the pavement aglow and turning the air thick and heavy with humidity.
Inside, the air conditioners struggled valiantly, their mechanical hum competing with the sounds of celebration.
At the same time, ceiling fans spun furiously overhead, their blades slicing through the atmosphere with a persistent whoosh, sending sporadic gusts of warm air.
Despite the lively surroundings, Elizabeth remained seated, a sense of unease unfurling like a dark cloud within her. Every cheerful exclamation felt distant, and she couldn't shake off the stiffness in her body, as if she were an observer in a world of laughter she longed to be part of but felt somehow disconnected from.
Perhaps it was because students frequently brushed past her, hitting her squarely between the shoulders without acknowledgment, or perhaps...
Elizabeth was reluctant to dwell on the flying lady, yet her thoughts were dominated by the vision of golden eagle wings.
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What if it was related to her?
Groups of seniors hurried past, colliding with Elizabeth without apology, whispering complaints, and ignoring her presence. They consistently pretended that Elizabeth was invisible.
Just because she was highly intellectual—always the first to hand in assignments and the top student in every subject—many of her schoolmates took this as proof that she was a misfit, even more like a nerd.
They believed that she came off as just as flamboyant, nerdy, and pretentious as any other oddball, and no one had ever liked her.
Yet she was accustomed to that; she appreciated that no one was committed to transforming her chemicals into acid, nor had her locker been defaced with blood-red insults.
Today promised to be perfect.
However, with her luck, perfection was impossible, not even for one hour.
Elizabeth made her way through the bustling corridors towards the cafeteria, a palpable sense of unease knotting in her stomach as she held onto the hope that her day would remain uneventful.
The rich, aromatic scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air as she approached the bustling counter, where she eagerly ordered her go-to beverage: a small caramel syrup cappuccino, its rich, creamy texture perfectly complemented by the sweet caramel drizzle on top.
With her drink in hand, she couldn't resist the enticing sight of a colorful tortilla nestled tantalizingly on a plate nearby, leading her to select a cheesy enchilada accompanied by a generous side of freshly mashed guacamole.
As she navigated the labyrinth of benches, searching for a quiet corner to enjoy her meal, a sudden hint of anxiety startled her. Elizabeth halted dead on the spot as a wave of dizziness washed over her.
She tried to walk, yet her legs felt like stones. Just as she was wondering, her peaceful reverie was abruptly shattered by a sharp voice cutting through the din.
“Look, girls, who’s that? Our nerdy girl is struggling to find her boyfriend again, eh?”
Elizabeth’s heart sank as her gaze locked onto the source of the mocking tone. It was none other than the Evil Whirlpool, the infamous group of four girls who ruled the school hallways with fear and intimidation.
Their leader, Janet, strutted forward with an air of superiority, her eyes glinting with mischief as she seized the collar of Elizabeth’s sweater, yanking her forward with surprising strength.
Leaning in, her smile twisted into a malicious grin that hinted at her sadistic pleasure, Janet sneered, “Need some help, nerd?” As Elizabeth glanced around, her stomach churned at the sight of countless smartphones brandished like weapons, recording her humiliation for all to see.
Faces filled with glee turned towards her, and a familiar taunt echoed in her ears: “Is our nerdiest nerd about to fall flat on her face?”
Desperate to mask her fear, Elizabeth forced a trembling smile, which only seemed to fuel the fire of Janet’s amusement.
Sensing the opportunity to escalate the situation, Janet signaled her minions to capture every moment on their screens. With deliberate slowness, she reached for Elizabeth’s precious cappuccino, raising it in mock cheers before taking a huge gulp, savoring the very drink that held Elizabeth’s hopes for a calming lunch.
In an instant, one of Janet's followers tossed her Elizabeth’s backpack, and with a wicked gleam in her eyes, Janet tipped the cup, pouring the remaining frothy contents into the bag.
Panic surged through Elizabeth as she suddenly recalled that her borrowed library book—a cherished, hardbound edition—was nestled inside, an irreplaceable treasure now at risk.
Tears threatened to spill, but sobbing wasn't an option—not with so many phones capturing every moment.
Just as she braced herself, Janet slammed the glass down onto Elizabeth's tray with a triumphant flourish, her spitting out a wad of chewing gum inside as if it were the grand finale of a cruel performance.
“Now, thank us,” Janet ordered with a sneer, her grip tightening around Elizabeth’s collar, rendering her momentarily breathless. With a devilish twinkle in her eye, Janet emerged holding a jar of jam, her smile widening as she declared, “Tough, eh?”
The next heart-stopping moment came as Elizabeth felt the cold, slimy jam cascade down over her head, its sticky sweetness mingling with her humiliation. It dripped down her nose, pooling beneath her feet, a grotesque blend of apple jam with her shattered dignity—an additional loss mopped away carelessly by the janitor, leaving nothing behind but the echoes of laughter and her own, now fragile, sense of self.
Elizabeth lowered her head; tears swirled in her eyelids, and her nose was reddening. She felt Janet’s nails digging into her skin—so painful, so silent.