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Chapter 23/Anne’s Nightmare

Chapter 23: 23/Anne’s Nightmare

Chapter 23

Stephanie’s Point of View

I could no longer bear Alexander’s bold words; they pierced my skin like needles. I turned away from him with lightning speed, trying to gather what remained of my dignity, and ran toward the house, sand flying behind me. But I began to hear the heavy thud of his footsteps behind me, stalking me like a shadow.

When I reached the door and opened it with trembling hands, he was standing right behind me. I could feel his hot breath on the nape of my neck. I turned to him in shock and asked, "What are you doing?"

"Go inside," he answered with cold possession.

I entered the house with stumbling steps and climbed the stairs, my heart pounding violently. He followed me without hesitation. My God! Was he following me to my room? I stopped at my door and turned to see where he would go, only to see him enter Cedric’s room coolly, as if he owned the place.

I entered my room and shut the door, leaning against it while gasping for air, my chest heaving madness. I headed straight for the bathroom, stripped off my wet clothes, and stood under the pouring water, trying to wash away the trace of his kiss, his touch, and his provocative way of speaking.

"Damn it, Stephanie! Haven’t you forgotten this man yet?" I screamed at myself bitterly.

I closed my eyes as the water streamed down my face, and suddenly, the current of memories pulled me back... six whole years.

I remembered the first time he walked into our high school classroom. He entered with an imposing presence his towering height and the powerful muscles that bulged beneath his white shirt and black trousers.

He looked too young to be a teacher, but his posture commanded absolute authority. That black hair, those blue eyes... damn, those eyes took you to a place from which you could never return.

He stood before the desk and said in his husky voice that echoed through the hall, "Hello... I am your new teacher."

He turned to the chalkboard and, with a confident motion, wrote his name: Alexander Thorne.

I admired his back and those breathtakingly broad shoulders. He turned again and said, "I will be teaching you English Literature."

All the girls stared at him in awe, their eyes following every inch of him. He began the lesson, and every movement he made attracted me incredibly: how he held the pen between his long fingers, how he opened the book quietly, how he placed his finger in the middle of the pages, or how he rested his hand on the desk before sitting.

When the bell rang, the girls swarmed around his desk like bees until he completely disappeared behind the crowd. As for me, I gathered my things silently and left. I wasn’t the kind of girl a man like him would notice. I was the only one with red hair in high school; they mockingly called me "Anne" (Anne of Green Gables). They bullied me, mocking my features and my thin frame. Not even the high school boys noticed me; in their eyes, I was "Flat Anne," the girl who lacked the curves of the other girls.

The moment I stepped out of the school doors, trying to stay out of sight, I felt a strong, harsh hand pull me violently by the arm. I turned in terror to see who it was, and my heart sank when I found Claire Sacy.

Claire was the most popular girl in school. She had long, blonde, wavy hair that looked as if she’d just stepped out of a high-end salon. Her green eyes and sharp features made her look like a model.

Her body screamed with an overwhelming femininit large breasts and a prominent ass that stood out clearly, especially when she wore her cheerleader uniform, drawing everyone’s fascinated gaze.

She stood before me with a mocking smile. "Flat Anne... what shall we do with you today?"

Beside her stood Miley and Emma, who always followed her like shadows, no less beautiful or arrogant than she was. Suddenly, I felt Miley’s hand pull my red hair back so hard it pained my neck. She sneered, "Where is your friend Kira to save you? Did she not come today?"

"Let me go!" I said in a trembling voice, trying in vain to free myself from their grip.

They paid no heed to my pleas. Instead, they grabbed my hands and dragged me violently behind the school toward the gym, which was usually empty. There, they shoved me hard until my back hit the solid wall, surrounding me like predators cornering weak prey.

Claire approached me, grabbing my jaw in her strong grip, squeezing my facial bones until I felt the pain reach my teeth. She said in a cold, evil tone, "We’re bored... and we’re going to have some fun with you today."

"Why are you doing this? Just let me go!" I said, my voice choked with tears as I looked at their cruel faces.

They all laughed loudly, as if my words were nothing but a comedic scene. Emma leaned her head back mockingly. "We’ll let you go, but not now."

Miley added in a voice dripping with venom, "Not until we’re finished with you, darling."

"What are you going to do?" I asked, fear paralyzing my limbs.

Claire stepped closer, scanning my clothes with a look of disdain. "Why do you always wear hoodies like a boy and baggy pants? You have nothing to hide; you’re flat!" The girls burst into laughter again. Then, Claire commanded, "Girls... hold her!"

They grabbed my hands so tightly that their nails dug into my skin. I began to struggle with my thin body, trying to break free. "What are you trying to do? Let me go!"

Claire leaned in, her eyes gleaming with malice. "I’m going to take off this hoodie, and everything you’re wearing under it, and we’ll let you go without it."

I was absolutely terrified.

The blood froze in my veins, and I felt the coldness of death creeping through my body. I screamed at the top of my lungs a desperate cry that shook the empty area: "HELP ME!"

Claire laughed coldly as she stepped toward me. "No one will hear you, darling." Her cruel hands reached out and violently stripped the hoodie off me. I was wearing a short top underneath; she grabbed it and yanked it off in the blink of an eye, leaving my upper half naked before their mocking stares.

I began to sob, a heart-wrenching sound. I tried to cover my chest with my trembling hands and pleaded, "Please, Claire... give me back my clothes."

Claire laughed with merciless mockery. "Oh, damn! What is this, Stephanie? You barely have breasts... if it weren’t for your long hair, we’d think you were a boy!"

Emma cackled, nearly falling over from laughter. "Hell! Are you a boy lying to us?"

Miley replied, stepping toward me with a terrifying look of threat: "Maybe we should check the bottom part too!"