Chapter 5: Exiled by the Monster Next Door

The scale never budged, no more cheekbones. Just fat. No matter how little she ate or how much she ran. She avoided photos, ducked out of group selfies.

And those jiggling bits of fat seemed to mock her ugliness.

She pinched her stomach, tears streaming down her face. The reflection sneered back at her.

“Ah—”

The scream was raw, echoing off the dorm walls. She grabbed a hairbrush and flung it across the room.

She screamed, dazed, and started smashing things.

Makeup, textbooks, a framed photo—all went flying. The sound of breaking glass was sharp and final.

“Why, why did I become like this!”

She sobbed, voice hoarse. Her hands shook as she tore through her drawers, searching for something—anything—to explain it.

The carpet was littered with broken bits of her life. She rocked back and forth, the sobs wracking her body. She was falling apart.

Creak—the door opened.

The sound made her jump. She wiped her eyes, trying to compose herself.

“Oh my god!”

Lily’s voice was sharp, a mix of shock and anger. She stepped over the mess, hands on her hips.

She was shocked and a little angry, and started scolding Zoe: “Why did you mess up the dorm like this!”

Her words were harsh, but there was worry underneath. She glanced at Zoe, then at the chaos. She cared. I could tell.

Zoe kept her head down, until Autumn’s gentle voice came:

Autumn’s voice was soft, almost musical. “Zoe, what’s wrong? Are you feeling sick?”

Zoe looked up and met Autumn’s incredibly beautiful face. She was even prettier than before—now full and delicate compared to her previous skin-and-bones look.

Autumn’s skin glowed, her eyes bright. She looked like she’d stepped out of a magazine. The contrast was jarring. Unreal.

“It’s you! The person in the photo is you, isn’t it?”

Zoe’s voice was sharp, accusing. The realization hit me like a punch. Autumn—of course.

Only then did I realize—the back in the photo looked just like Autumn.

The hair, the posture—it was unmistakable. I felt a surge of anger and betrayal.

“What photo?” Autumn looked at Zoe innocently.

Her eyes were wide, lips parted in a perfect O. She played dumb, but there was a glint in her eye.

Zoe pulled out her phone and showed her: “Look carefully, is this you!”

Her hands shook as she scrolled to the photo, thrusting it in Autumn’s face.

Autumn took the phone and glanced at it. “Ah~ it’s me. Marcus is very sweet.”

Her tone was light, almost mocking. She handed the phone back with a smirk.

Zoe nearly lost her mind, screaming, “He’s my boyfriend!”

Her voice cracked, raw with pain. She looked ready to collapse.

Autumn responded with a sweet smile, leaned close to Zoe’s ear, and said slowly:

Her breath was cold on Zoe’s skin. “I know. So what? Do you know how he described you—a stiff, boring fat pig~”

Zoe collapsed on the ground. I could feel her anger and pain, but even more, her confusion.

Her knees buckled, and she sank to the floor, sobbing. I felt her heartbreak, her helplessness. I wanted to help. I couldn’t.

Why had she become like this?

The question echoed in my mind, unanswered. There was no reason, no logic—just cruelty.

She’d been fine just a few months ago.

She scrolled through old photos, seeing a different girl—one she barely recognized.

Zoe had even taken lots of diet pills and seen doctors, but nothing worked. It was as if she was born ugly and fat.

She’d tried everything—kale smoothies, spin class, prescription meds. Nothing changed. It was like her body wasn’t her own.

Zoe lost her spirit and couldn’t recover.

She stopped going to class, stopped seeing friends. She lay in bed for hours, staring at the ceiling.

That night, she wandered the campus alone.

She pulled on a hoodie, slipped out into the dark. The campus was empty, rain slicking the sidewalks.

She felt like everyone she passed pointed at her, their eyes strange.

She heard whispers, saw glances. Maybe they were real, maybe not.

When she passed the abandoned pool behind the old science building, she stopped, looked at the unfamiliar face reflected in the water, smiled, and jumped in without a struggle.

Her reflection stared back, bloated and sad. She smiled—a small, broken thing—then stepped forward. The water closed over her head. No. Please, no.

I panicked, but no matter how I screamed, I couldn’t wake her up.

I pounded on the glass, begging her to stop. But I was trapped, voiceless, helpless.

The world went dark.

After two thunderclaps, a torrential rain fell from the sky.

My consciousness was stripped from her body. As it faded, I saw someone walking toward the pool with an umbrella, taking something from Zoe’s corpse.

A shadowy figure, face hidden, knelt by the edge. I tried to see who it was, but the world spun away.

When I woke up, I was covered in cold sweat, my sheets soaked.

I sat up, gasping, heart racing. My pajamas clung to my skin, damp with fear.

I regretted it deeply. If only I’d told Zoe to stay away from Autumn, maybe she wouldn’t have died.

The guilt was suffocating. I replayed every conversation, every missed warning.

No, this must be a dream. Yes, it must be a dream.

I tried to convince myself, but the ache in my chest wouldn’t go away.

I knew it wasn’t good to call the resident advisor in the middle of the night, but I couldn’t calm down and didn’t care.

I scrolled through my contacts, hands shaking, and hit call. I needed to hear a real voice.

“Zoe… she really passed away.”

The words came out in a whisper. The RA’s voice was gentle, but the truth was brutal.

My phone slipped from my ear. It was destined to be a sleepless night.

I curled up under my blanket, phone buzzing on the floor, and stared into the darkness until morning. I didn’t sleep.

As for Autumn, I was still completely in the dark. Peanut’s death, Zoe’s death—I was sure these strange things were all connected to her, but I had no evidence.

The pieces didn’t fit, but my gut told me Autumn was at the center of it all.

Sometimes ignorance really is bliss.

Selfishly, I wished I’d never gone back to the dorm that day, or hadn’t had that strange dream and never learned the truth about Zoe’s death.

My mind was a mess. I took out my phone but couldn’t find anyone to talk to. Even if I did, they’d think I was crazy.

I scrolled through my contacts, hovering over Maddie’s name, but I couldn’t bring myself to call.

I was losing it.

But if I didn’t talk to someone, I thought I’d really go crazy.

Wait—

A flash of inspiration hit me, and I dug out the mysterious website Maddie had sent me.

I opened my laptop, searching through old messages until I found the link.

I clicked in, and as always, it was full of spam. In a hidden corner, I found a few blue words: “Click here for consultation.”

I hesitated, then clicked. The page was gray and empty, a chat box blinking at me.

I poured out all these strange events onto the gray chat page.

I typed until my fingers cramped—every detail, every fear, every impossible thing. I hit send and waited.

If there was no reply, I’d just treat it as venting.

I leaned back, exhausted. At least I’d gotten it out. Better than nothing.

The message was like a stone sinking into the sea. Disappointed, I closed the chat page.

No reply. No magic fix. I shut my laptop and lay back, staring at the ceiling.

I took time to visit Zoe’s parents. Both of them had gone gray overnight, looking much older, still immersed in grief.

Their house was quiet, full of old family photos and the smell of fresh-baked bread. They hugged me tight, tears streaming down their faces.

They cried to me, saying they’d just FaceTimed Zoe not long ago, and she’d been fine.

Her mom showed me a screenshot—Zoe smiling, looking healthy. My heart twisted.

I carefully asked if Zoe had changed in appearance.

I tried to be gentle. “Did you notice anything… different about her lately?”

They said no, just a bit thinner than usual.

Her dad shrugged, wiping his eyes. “She’d lost some weight, but she seemed happy.”

I was shocked. The Zoe they saw and the Zoe I "saw"—were they really the same person?

I stared at the photo on the mantle, struggling to reconcile the two images in my mind.

It felt like nothing.

I left them a Visa gift card. Besides the money my mom gave me, I had nothing else to give.

It felt small, but it was all I had. They thanked me, their hands shaking.

I stood in front of Zoe’s tombstone. The photo on it was beautiful.

She looked radiant, her smile bright and real. I traced her name with my finger, tears blurring my vision.

Still, it hurt.

Honestly, I wasn’t that close to Zoe, just regular roommates.

We’d shared a bathroom, borrowed each other’s clothes, but we were never best friends. Still, her absence left a hole I couldn’t fill.

But now, I was the only one who knew what she’d really gone through before she died, but could do nothing about it. I was so sad, tears streamed down my face.

I sobbed quietly, wishing I could have done more, wishing I could have saved her.

“Harper, is that you?”

The voice was soft, familiar, but it sent a chill down my spine. I turned, dreading what I’d see.

I wiped away my tears and saw the last person I wanted to see.

Autumn stood there, more beautiful than ever, her hair shining in the afternoon sun. She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

Sure enough, she looked just like she had in my dream—more beautiful and refined, with a devilish figure.

She wore a fitted black dress, her makeup flawless. She looked like she belonged on a magazine cover, not in a cemetery. Wrong place, wrong person.

I nodded stiffly, waiting for her to speak.

My hands curled into fists at my sides. I tried to steady my breathing, forcing myself to stay calm.

“You came to see Zoe too. By the way, it’s been a long time since we’ve met.”

Her voice was syrupy sweet, but there was an edge to it—a warning.

She always got way too close when she talked.

She leaned in, her breath cold on my cheek. I shivered, resisting the urge to step back.