"Wait!" Ella's voice cut through Helen's despair, her hand reaching out.
"Just leave me alone…" Helen's voice dragged, as heavy as her feet, each word a weary sigh.
"What if we take your mind off it?" Ella grinned, a spark of childlike eagerness in her eyes.
Helen stopped, her body frozen mid-stride. Slowly, she looked over her shoulder, a mask of skepticism hardening her face.
"What could possibly take my mind off this?" She scoffed, rolling her eyes.
As they walked past the other students, a chorus of hushed whispers and murmurs followed Helen. Mouths were open, hands instinctively drew closer to conceal their gossip, but ears strained, closer still.
"Isn't that the great Helen?" one student murmured to his friend as they passed.
"Heard she failed the exam. Actually serves her right for how she's been," another grunted, frowning at Helen as they walked by.
"Let's go to a party then," Ella chuckled, her face alight with an almost manic glee, like a child on Christmas morning. Helen just stared at her, an eyebrow arched.
"You've never gone to one party, not even stepped your foot into a club." Her voice took on a mocking lilt.
"Always saying you were reading, and something about not having time."
"Hmm…" Helen scoffed once more, turning forward, her gaze fixed on the endless hallway ahead. She continued walking, her resolve firm.
Ugh!
Ella let out a frustrated sigh, a puff of exasperation, as she broke into a run to catch up.
"Well, since you're, you-know-what," she muttered, scuffling her hands vaguely in the air as Helen passed other medical students.
"You finally have every reason to go with me on one." She chirped, brimming with misplaced cheer.
"Look… I appreciate what you're doing, but…" Helen's voice trailed off as she reached the door.
"I just want to be alone." Her eyes, heavy with defeat, seemed to succumb to gravity's pull, her head drooping. She placed her hand on the cold doorknob, turning it with a lifeless slowness.
No! I can't let her go like this.
She's never tasted this feeling before…
The feeling of failure----something I'm all too used to.
God knows what she'll do to herself!
Ella thought frantically, clenching the fabric of her shirt over her racing heart.
"I'm going to one tonight!" she blurted out, the first thought that popped into her head.
"It would mean a lot if you followed me, even for just this once." She infused her voice with desperate plea, ignoring the curious glances of other students who now looked at her as if she were utterly bizarre.
Helen merely glanced at her from the corner of her eye, silent. She pushed the door open, the bright, merciless white light of the fluorescent bulbs basking her as she walked into the hall, closing the door softly behind her. Ella watched the door swing shut in her wake, her heart heavy with sadness.
Just what will I do now?
Helen's mind raced, a furious echo in the silent hall.
How the heck did cyanide get there?
What's it even doing there in an exam? Who just does that?!
She stalked down the hallway, her feet dragging, each step a testament to her shattered pride. The clean, polished tiles seemed to mock her with their perfection.
She passed by a bulletin board plastered with glowing notices of academic achievements and smiling faces---a sharp contrast to her internal turmoil. The air, usually crisp and sterile, now felt thick with unseen judgment. She pushed open the heavy main doors, stepping out into the late afternoon light.
"Hey, Helen." A boy's voice, warm and familiar as the rays of the sun, called out. He waved, his long, wavy hair glinting, complementing his fair, radiant skin.
Helen saw him, recognized him, yet walked past as if he were a ghost, her gaze vacant, her steps heavy. The boy stood frozen, confused, wondering why she was treating him this way as she dragged her feet across the concrete path.
"Where are you----" He couldn't complete his sentence before she had vanished through the main gate, exiting the school grounds entirely.
I wonder what's her problem.
Not her usual 'oomph!' today.
The boy mused, shrugging off the odd encounter before turning and walking in the opposite direction.
Helen walked towards her car, a battered but beloved relic. Its frame, though dented in places, gleamed under the fading sunlight, its doors untouched by the day's grime, its windows rolled up, reflecting the vast, indifferent sky.
It sat like a weary beast, a silent witness to her crumbling aspirations. She opened the door, the familiar creak a hollow comfort. Slumping into the driver's seat, she inserted the key and turned the ignition. The engine coughed to life with a familiar grumble, a low thrum against the rising tension in her chest. She pulled out, leaving the murmuring campus behind, the car's bumper disappearing beyond the gate as if swallowing her despair whole.
The drive was a blur of motion, a sensory assault. The heavy weight of her thoughts pressed in, while the relentless glare of oncoming headlights pierced her eyes like daggers, splintering into a migraine that threatened to split her skull.
Her eyes, already sunken from exhaustion, retreated deeper into their sockets, seeking refuge from the overwhelming world. The familiar streets, usually a comforting grid, now felt like a labyrinth designed to trap her in her own mind.
The low hum of the engine, the distant blare of a horn, the faint scent of exhaust fumes -- each sensation was magnified, contributing to the growing throb behind her eyes.
…
Time became a blurred canvas, the sun slowly surrendering to the embrace of twilight. Helen's car sat parked outside an apartment building, a silent, solitary sentinel under the burgeoning stars. Only one window, high in a corner, cast a faint, lonely light. She opened her apartment door, the click echoing in the oppressive quiet.
"I'm home," she murmured, a habit, a reflex, but no one replied.
"How could I forget…" A cold, sharp realization pierced her. She slipped off her shoes, leaving them abandoned by the door, and moved with leaden steps to her bedroom.
She collapsed onto the bed, still in her nurse's uniform, its starched fabric a cruel reminder of her failure. She just sulked there, face down, the soft mattress absorbing the weight of her despair. Her mind, untethered, traveled far back into the past.
"And here comes little miss Intelligentsia as she comes and accepts the reward!" An announcer's voice boomed, the memory accompanied by a blinding flash of camera lights.
"Congrats, you just won a fully paid scholarship to study in any school in Massachusetts of your choice." An older man's proud voice.
Ever since I was little.
A younger version of Helen walked through a darkness, her school bag buckling under the weight of expectations of several people.
I've been hailed as intelligent, smart… You name it…
Awards and certificates rained down, obscuring her path, resembling that of a gilded cage.
Even up to my higher education.
She remembered countless voices hailing her, praising her, their words a constant pressure.
That all had its good sides…
It also had its downsides…
Everything inverted, a crimson light flashing, revealing Lara's silhouette as her laughter was a mocking echo.
It's all going downhill now…
For once in my life…
I didn't win…
She grunted, a stifled sob, as her bed absorbed the tears, a damp patch spreading beneath her.
What am I going to do…
This suffocating thought was abruptly interrupted by the insistent ringing of her phone in her pocket.
She ignored it, but the persistent vibration became an insistent buzz against her thigh, a relentless insect. Frustration flared. She grabbed her phone, her hand twitching with the urge to hurl it across the room. Then she saw the caller ID.
It's Ella.
Her eyelids subtly fluttered. She wiped her eyes and nose with the back of her hand, then answered the call.
"Hey… Helen…" Ella's voice, though partially drowned by the thumping bass of distant music, carried a buoyant energy.
"Where are you?!" Ella sounded happy, yet a thread of worry tightened her tone. Helen hesitated, her mind briefly lapsing, unsure how to respond. Not out of fear, but a momentary blankness.
"Helenn?" Ella's voice dragged out her name, laced with excitement as the music swelled.
"Yeah… Yeah." Helen mumbled, slapping her face lightly, trying to snap herself awake.
"Are you coming?" Ella's voice softened, almost a beg. "Please come, it wouldn't hurt." She chirped, a gleeful invitation.
"You also need to let off some steam!" Ella shouted, sounding like she was gulping down a drink, the clink of glass barely audible.
She is right…
C'mon, Helen, go… You've been cooped up doing nothing but study, nothing but excelling.
Now here's an opportunity to reward yourself.
Helen's own inner voice twisted, a strange seduction.
B-But I need to…
Need to do what?
The voice barked back, sharp and unforgiving.
Helen's breathing shuddered, her mind at a crossroads, two paths diverging into an uncertain future. But not for long. A decision solidified.
"You still with me, Helen?" Ella asked, her voice tinged with concern.
"Yeah…" Helen answered, a new resolve hardening her tone.
"Where's the party?" A sharper, more confident voice emerged from deep within Helen.
"It's at Club Bam Bam, you've heard of the place." Ella's words were quick, but then her brain seemed to catch up.
"Wait… You're actually coming?!" Ella shouted in pure surprise, the music fading slightly as if even the club itself was taken aback.
Helen cut off the call, her eyes fierce, a new determination burning within them. She tossed the phone onto the bed, her nurse's uniform shirt and bra following soon after, shedding the vestiges of her failed identity.