Chapter 1: Bitter Love...
"I love you."
I said it too loudly.
Too suddenly.
My voice cracked, trembling with nerves.
My eyes were shut—I didn't have the courage to look her in the face.
Was she happy? Sad? Disgusted…?
I didn't know.
But before I can explain this moment, I have to take you back—all the way to our first year of high school.
.
.
.
I had just turned 17 when it happened.
Or rather... when she came.
It was an ordinary day, the kind that slides by without meaning. I sat in the middle row, farthest to the left, my eyes out the window, not paying attention to class.
Then she entered.
A transfer student, the teacher had said. Beautiful. Slender. Silent.
She didn't smile. Didn't wave. Didn't say much at all.
Yet somehow—she captivated me.
She took the only empty seat, fourth row to the right.
Far from where I sat.
That was our very first encounter.
She seemed normal. She listened in class. Ate lunch during breaks. Turned in homework on time.
But always alone.
It irritated me.
Did she think she was better than us? That being beautiful gave her the right to be above it all?
Cruel thoughts began to form.
Ugly thoughts.
But I couldn't stop watching her.
She was a trap I had fallen into—and I didn't even try to climb out.
So I acted out.
I mocked her.
Called her names.
Ordered her around.
She never said a word in protest. Not to the teachers. Not to her parents. Not even to me.
For every insult I hurled, every cruel laugh I forced out—I dug deeper into something I didn't understand.
Something warm.
But instead of facing it, I covered it up with sharper cruelty.
I kept it up for the whole first year.
And then—
She disappeared.
She moved. Transferred again.
My stomach twisted into a knot when I heard the news.
Was it because of me?
Regret hit me like a train.
Followed by sadness.
And then... a dull, endless silence.
I stopped speaking. Stopped smiling.
Shut myself off.
I prayed—every single day.
To see her again.
To apologize.
To tell her I wasn't the same.
But nothing happened.
Time passed.
I graduated.
Started university.
Kept my head down.
Said the bare minimum.
And then, one afternoon, after a lonely lunch behind the school—I opened the classroom door.
And bumped into someone.
"Ah, sorry," I mumbled.
I reached out to help them up—and froze.
My breath caught in my throat.
My heart skipped a beat.
It was her.
Her.
After all this time.
My prayers had finally been answered.
I wanted to say something.
Anything.
But I choked.
She took my hand. Stood up. And walked past me with a quiet, soft "Sorry."
Did she remember me?
I cursed myself for the rest of the day.
Why couldn't I speak?
Days passed.
Each one, I saw her again.
Each one, I tried to find the courage.
And failed.
Until one day—
It rained.
I ran into the park nearby for shelter.
And there she was.
Drenched. Silent.
Hair clinging to her face.
I found my voice in that storm.
"Do you… remember me?"
Silence.
Then, finally—
"Why are you here?"
Her voice cracked with pain.
My smile disappeared.
I bowed my head.
And the words poured out.
"I'm sorry. For everything. I regret it all. Every word. Every moment I made you suffer."
She didn't respond.
But she cried.
Soft, broken sobs.
And I realized—
She had needed this as much as I had.
Still, I stood there like an idiot.
Watching.
As the girl I once tormented cried in front of me.
"I—"
The words vanished again.
She looked up.
"Do you understand how painful it is?"
She poured her soul out.
Told me everything.
Her parents didn't listen.
The teachers ignored her.
She had no friends.
And then—
SMACK.
She slapped me.
"WHY?!" she screamed.
Her voice cut deeper than her hand ever could.
She looked stronger than I ever remembered her.
"I'm going home," she said.
She turned away.
And I—I reached out.
"Please," I whispered. "I've changed."
I begged.
Pathetically.
Desperately.
She stood there.
Silent.
Then:
"I hate you," she said. "But… if you've truly changed, then… I'll think about it."
"I'll never forgive you. But if it's real—maybe…"
And then she walked away.
But there was something in her eyes.
Not kindness.
Not forgiveness.
But maybe—relief.
The next day, she waited for me.
"There you are," she said. Calm. Clear.
"What are you standing there for? We'll be late."
Did she forget?
Or…
Does she believe in me?
Even just a little?
"...Let's go."
We started spending time together.
Not because we meant to.
But because we had no one else.
Two people with too much past.
She never brought up what happened.
And I never stopped remembering.
It was peaceful.
Quiet.
Like breathing again after holding it in for years.
And then it changed.
I started to feel things.
Things I didn't think I deserved.
My chest tightened whenever I looked at her.
I stumbled over my words.
I knew what it meant.
But I couldn't say it.
Because love… love isn't fair when you're the one who destroyed everything.
So I stayed quiet.
Even if it hurt.
Even if it tore me apart.
Because as long as she's beside me—
That's enough.
For now.
She's like a song—
Beautiful.
Unreal.
Her voice, a melody I don't deserve.
Her gaze, cold but honest.
And me?
A ghost.
A monster wearing human skin.
I sat in class, drowning in memory.
The teacher's words blurred.
The world felt distant.
And I kept thinking—
Maybe this is all I deserve.
Maybe carrying the weight is the closest thing I'll ever get to atonement.
But even monsters…
Can they change?
I have to believe they can.
Because if not—
Then I've already lost her all over again.