I HATE MYSELF

POV- MIA CARTER

“So, this coming Friday, get ready for the ghost hunt.”

We cheered, excitement buzzing between us like electricity. The thrill of the unknown, the challenge ahead—it was the kind of adrenaline rush that kept us coming back for more.

After class, I lingered near the lockers, waiting for Nathan.

Nathan—my best friend, my secret crush. He was the closest to me in our group, the one who made me feel like I truly belonged. I pulled out my compact mirror and checked my reflection, smoothing down my hair. I wanted to look good, at least for him.

Just as I was lost in my thoughts, voices drifted from the other side of the hallway. I wasn’t supposed to hear them. But I did.

"She looks ugly."

"Yeah, no matter what, a pig is always a pig."

"Seriously. In that group of four, she’s the ugliest one."

"I don’t get why Jason and Nathan hang out with her."

"Claire is perfect, though."

The words hit like a slap to my chest.

I felt something tighten in my throat, a lump of pain and humiliation I couldn’t swallow down. My fingers clenched around the mirror. No matter what I did, it was never enough.

My mother didn’t want me—she saw my father’s face in mine and resented me for it.

My father? He barely acknowledged my existence.

I was practically alone.

Except for them—Jason, Claire, Nathan. Especially Nathan.

He and the others were popular. I wasn’t. I was just there, lingering on the outskirts of their glow, hoping I belonged.

When I first met Nathan, he had looked at me with a lazy smirk and said, “You’re interesting.” No one had ever called me that before.

For a while, I let myself believe I had a chance.

Then, just when I had gathered the courage to confess, he told me he liked Claire.

Of course, he did.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to push away the sting of it. Just then, a familiar voice cut through the whispers.

"Get lost, you losers. She’s my special friend. If you dare to bully her, I’ll make your life hell."

Nathan.

His voice carried across the hallway like a shield, shutting them up instantly. Relief and warmth bloomed in my chest.

He strode toward me, grabbing my wrist without hesitation. “Let’s go,” he said, dragging me away from the murmuring crowd.

I let him.

Because Nathan was Nathan. He could pull me out of the darkness just by being there.

When we met up with the others, we exchanged goodbyes before heading home.

“So,” Nathan said out of nowhere, his hands stuffed in his pockets. “Did you find anyone interesting?”

I blinked at him, caught off guard. “What?”

“You know… anyone you like?” His tone was playful, teasing.

I hesitated, then shook my head. “No… I don’t have time for that.”

Nathan chuckled. “How about me?”

For a second, my heart stopped.

I stared at him, my brain scrambling to process his words. Then, as if sensing my reaction, he smirked.

He was joking.

I forced out a laugh, pushing past the sting of disappointment. “I can’t be your Claire,” I said, trying to keep my voice light.

His smirk softened into something unreadable. “You know… I like that part of you the most.”

I frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Instead of answering, he shrugged. “Help me get Claire to like me.”

The words landed like a knife to my gut.

I swallowed the pain and forced a smile. “Sure.”

I had no choice. If this was the only way to stay close to him, I would take it.

When we reached the end of the street, we parted ways.

As soon as I stepped inside my house, the suffocating tension wrapped around me like a noose.

And then I saw them.

My class teacher—Mr. Reynolds. My mother.

Flirting.

I clenched my fists, my stomach twisting. I didn’t care. Or at least, I told myself I didn’t.

Without a word, I shut the door to my room, locking the world out.

Slumping against the bed, I whispered to myself, “I hate this house.”

I hated the walls that held no warmth.

I hated the people inside it.

I hated the mirror that reflected the person I was.

And most of all, I hated myself.

For being a loser.

For thinking I could be anything more.

#To be continued

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