READERS DISCRETION IS ADVISED - This Chapter contains some uncomfortable topics even though they have been toned down from the original/uncensored version.
A ball was scheduled later that evening in honor of the new school director. Mark, a senior student known for his charm and string of brief relationships, caught Habondia's attention. A knot formed in her stomach just thinking of dancing with him.
"Maybe you can finally be with someone tonight, Habondia. Mark is free for the dance. It's your chance!" Jonna's smile was encouraging, but Habondia's self-doubt surfaced.
"Me with Mark? No, that's impossible. He'd never want to be with someone like me. I'm too timid and plain... it's just not possible," Habondia stuttered, her cheeks burning with embarrassment.
Joanne chimed in, her tone mocking. "You may be timid, but you're not ugly. A little makeup, and voilà!" Her laughter echoed.
As Joanne playfully teased her about potentially engaging in inappropriate behavior with Mark, Habondia's discomfort grew. "I don't want any of that! I'm not... I'm not like that," she protested, her cheeks aflame. "I'm not a... a..."
Joanne's laughter cut through her sentence, leaving Habondia feeling more misunderstood than ever.
“Let’s go back to our room,” Joanne said, so they did.
As Jonna entered the room they shared, the ambiance shifted. The space, with its three beds neatly made, a table cluttered with textbooks, and two sofas, transformed into a place where Habondia could retire and be herself. Joanne, with her deft fingers, skillfully fixed Habondia's hair as she sat on a vanity desk while staring at the mirror.
Jonna, the heiress to a wealthy family, had brought luxurious Chinese silk gowns, each one a masterpiece crafted by renowned designers. "Lotus silk, designed in Paris. Exquisite, isn't it?" she exclaimed, a playful giggle escaping her lips.
The bond between Habondia and Jonna had blossomed during the ceremony marking the beginning of the new semester. After a brief interaction, Jonna had invited Habondia to share their room, a gesture that had solidified their friendship. Habondia loved Jonna's elegant French accent and considered her a confidante and kindred spirit. Both Jonna and Joanne were fifteen, the same age as Habondia, yet their relationships with her differed significantly. While Jonna exuded elegance, sophistication, warmth, and camaraderie, Joanne's demeanor oscillated between appreciation for Habondia's innocence and roughness. Habondia often found herself the target of Joanne's playful teasing, only to receive swift apologies soon after.
As the clock struck seven, the trio was finally prepared for the evening ahead. Despite Joanne and Jonna's swift attire selection, they dedicated nearly two hours to styling Habondia. The transformation culminated in Jonna breaking Habondia's glasses, eliciting a cry of distress from her.
"What are you doing?" Habondia's voice quivered, her eyes welling up with tears.
"Don't fret, this has been planned for weeks. Besides, those glasses make you look like an old lady!" Jonna handed Habondia a sleek black box.
With trembling hands, Habondia opened the box to reveal a new pair of glasses, fashioned with delicate frames that accentuated her features.
"I... I can't afford these," Habondia stuttered, her voice tinged with anxiety as if she had witnessed a ghost.
"You don't need to pay for these. Consider them a gift," Jonna reassured, her touch gentle as she pinched Habondia's cheek affectionately.
Despite the overwhelming emotions threatening to spill over, Habondia managed a grateful smile, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. The trio stood in a row, each clad in a resplendent gown - pink for Habondia, blue for Jonna, and red for Joanne.
As they made their entrance, a wave of hushed whispers and envious glances followed them. Habondia, who had often been overlooked or mistreated by her peers, now found herself the center of attention. The girls who had once disregarded her now gazed in awe, their eyes filled with a mix of admiration and envy. Joanne's steely gaze dared anyone to challenge them, while Jonna's presence exuded an air of sophistication and privilege that left many longing to be in her shoes.
Habondia's heart fluttered as she entered the grand ballroom, the soft glow of chandeliers casting a warm, golden light over the elegant space. The air was filled with the sweet fragrance of roses, mingling with the sounds of laughter and music that swirled around her. She wore a delicate pink gown that shimmered in the light, the fabric soft against her skin, as she navigated the sea of swirling skirts and polished shoes.
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As she made her way through the crowd, Habondia's eyes searched for familiar faces, seeking solace in the company of friends amidst the opulence that surrounded her. Her gaze fell upon Mark, a tall, blond boy with an athletic build, clad in a black suit, sitting at a table in the northeast corner of the main hall. He was engrossed in conversation with two classmates, his easy smile lighting up his features.
"Hello, guys," Jonna's voice cut through the chatter, the sound of her laughter floating through the air like a melody. Habondia felt a pang of nervousness wash over her, her words caught in her throat as she tried to speak. Her cheeks flushed crimson with shyness, a wave of embarrassment washing over her like a tide.
"You are..." Mark's voice trailed off as he tried to place her face, his expression one of genuine curiosity.
"I'm Habondia," she managed to whisper, her voice barely above a murmur.
"Habondia?" Mark's eyes widened in surprise, his mouth forming a silent 'O' of recognition. "You look different!"
Habondia averted her gaze, unable to meet his eyes, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. His words of praise washed over her like a gentle breeze, warming her from within.
"You look gorgeous!" Mark's smile was infectious. "Would you like to dance?" his offer to dance sent a flutter of excitement through her. His hand extended towards her, a silent invitation that spoke volumes.
Habondia's eyes met his, disbelief and joy warring within her as she processed his words. "You... me... dancing?"
"Yes, let's go!" Mark's hand enveloped hers, leading her to the dance floor with a sense of purpose and grace. Habondia found herself swept away by the music, her movements fluid and graceful as she followed his lead.
The waltz carried them through the night. Habondia felt a sense of belonging in Mark's arms, a comfort in the familiarity of the dance. Their laughter filled the air, a sweet melody that danced alongside the music.
"Let's take a break," Mark's voice was a welcome reprieve, and Habondia nodded in agreement, her cheeks flushed with exertion.
They stepped out of the ballroom, the cool night air a stark contrast to the warmth of the dance floor. Habondia felt a sense of peace settle over her as they sat at a table outside the main hall.
Their conversation flowed effortlessly. Habondia found herself opening up to Mark, her words a reflection of her innermost thoughts and desires. The night seemed to stretch on endlessly, each moment a precious gift of companionship and understanding.
As they walked towards the library, the distant murmur of the ballroom fading into the background, a sense of unease crept over Habondia. Mark's demeanor shifted, his actions growing more urgent and insistent. Habondia's heart quickened with a mix of fear and confusion, the shadows of doubt clouding her mind.
Cornered against the wall, Habondia's breath caught in her throat, her body tensing with apprehension. The cold touch of fear gripped her as Mark's lips met her skin, sending a shiver down her spine. She tried to push him away, but his strength was overpowering, his actions becoming more forceful and invasive.
As he kissed her, a wave of panic surged through her, the warmth of his touch turning cold and suffocating. Habondia's mind raced with a jumble of thoughts and emotions, her instincts screaming for escape. But before she could react, the world spun into chaos as Mark's actions turned violent.
Her head throbbed with pain, the sharp sting of his blow reverberating through her skull. Dizzy and disoriented, she felt herself being dragged towards the lavatories, the harsh sound of the door closing echoing in her ears.
Alone and trapped, Habondia's world spiraled into darkness, her silent screams drowned out by the deafening silence of the empty hallway. The night that had begun with promises of joy had twisted into a nightmare.
Habondia's heart raced as Mark's grip tightened around her, pressing her harshly against the cold wall. A sharp pang of pain shot through her body as she struggled against his overpowering strength, her voice echoing off the tiled walls of the dimly lit bathroom.
"Release me, Mark!" Her voice quivered with a mix of terror and defiance, her eyes blazing with a fierce determination to break free from his cruel grasp.
"Quiet!" Mark's voice was a harsh command, cutting through the air like a blade, silencing her protests with a chilling finality that sent a shiver down her spine.
With a cruel efficiency that sent a wave of revulsion crashing over her, Mark tore at the delicate fabric of her gown, the sound of ripping fabric filling the small, enclosed space. Habondia's breath caught in her throat as he roughly grabbed her, his touch invasive, sending a wave of nausea churning in the pit of her stomach.
Mark's lips descended upon her neck in a sickening parody of affection. Habondia's skin crawled with disgust, her body tensing with revulsion and horror at his unwanted advances.
Forcing a colorless liquid down her throat from a small glass vial, Mark's actions blurred her senses, the world swirling into a distorted haze of pain and confusion. Her mind clouded with a fog of dizziness and disorientation, leaving her vulnerable.
"Let me go!" Her voice was a desperate plea, muffled by the overpowering force of his presence, the sense of helplessness washing over her like a suffocating wave.
"Easy! Nothing bad will happen, just enjoy the moment!" Mark's words cut through her like a knife, his tone mocking and cruel, a twisted mockery of reassurance that only served to deepen her terror.
As he continued his assault, stripping away her last shreds of dignity and autonomy, Habondia's body trembled with revulsion. The tears that welled in her eyes blurred the harsh light of the bathroom, casting everything into a surreal haze of pain and despair.
With a blow to her belly that stole her breath and left her gasping for air, Mark's actions grew more violent and degrading, stripping away her sense of self.
Habondia's mind spun with a whirlwind of emotions, her thoughts a chaotic jumble of fear, pain, and a deep sense of betrayal that cut to the core of her being. Alone and trapped in a nightmare of her own making, Habondia's world shattered into a million pieces, the shards of her shattered innocence cutting deep into her soul.