Semi-Immortal

[Reader Discretion: Semi-Immortal explores mature and challenging themes, including trauma, mental health struggles, violence, and discrimination. It contains scenes that may be distressing to some readers. Please proceed with caution and prioritize your well-being.] 

⋯

The echo of the wisps' voices lingered in Ivy's mind, their words cutting through her resolve like knives: "We aren't done with you yet. You'll listen because this is your truth. You can't run from it." Their chanting melded with the suffocating sensation they had forced upon her. Ivy's mind reeled, trying to process their torment, but she was abruptly pulled from the darkness by the sharp crack of wood hitting laminate.

"Reyna!"

The sharp thwack of a ruler against wood jarred Ivy awake. Her head shot up, her breathing quick and uneven as she looked around, disoriented. Her vision swam, the wisps' chants still echoing faintly in her ears. Her history teacher, Miss Eddison, loomed over her desk, arms crossed with the ruler clenched tightly in one hand. Her stern expression was tinged with frustration, though there was a glimmer of worry in her hazel eyes. "Care to explain why you were napping in my class again?" Miss Eddison's voice was firm, but not unkind. She tapped the ruler against her open palm for emphasis.

Still dazed, Ivy didn't respond. The Unbound Realm's torment lingered, thick and stifling. Miss Eddison's face softened, almost imperceptibly. "Outside," she commanded, "Now."

Ivy hesitated, her hands trembling as she fumbled to gather her belongings. The sound of her chair scraping against the floor drew muffled snickers and whispers from her classmates. She clenched her jaw, her sharp green eyes scanning the room. Each smirk and snide glance was a fresh jab, adding fuel to the fire of her simmering rage. Then, a voice, deliberately loud enough to cut through the murmurs: "Seriously, could she be any more pathetic? It's just… sad." The words landed with a sickening thud, not a whisper, but a venomous declaration meant to sting.

The sound of the laughter died down some, under the weight of her stare, although many still found the situation amusing. Her gaze travelled across the room, finally settling on Arleigh in the back. The girl was a study in contrasts: rich auburn hair that faded into vibrant blue tips, sitting with a posture so poised and perfect it drew the eye. Her head was slightly lowered, her pen hovering above her notes, frozen mid-air. A brief connection, a split-second of eye contact. Ivy saw something shift in Arleigh's practiced smile - an expression that tugged between guilt and discomfort. And just like that, it was gone. Her gaze slid back to her notebook, her face once again a mask of serenity.

Ivy scoffed under her breath. Of course, Arleigh wouldn't step in. She never did. Grabbing her bag, Ivy stalked toward the door, laughter and whispers trailing after her like smoke.Once in the hallway, Ivy leaned against the window, staring out at the overcast sky. She reached into her blazer pocket and pulled out a stick of gum, popping it into her mouth. The rhythmic chewing was a small comfort, grounding her in the present. She'd barely begun to settle when the classroom door creaked open behind her. Miss Eddison stepped out, closing the door softly before turning to face her.

"Spit out the gum, Ivy," she said, her tone clipped.

Ivy tilted her head back, blowing a small bubble before letting it pop. "Make me," she replied, her voice laced with defiance.

Miss Eddison sighed, rubbing her temple. "Ivy, I'm trying to help you. But you've got to meet me halfway."

"I don't need your help," Ivy shot back. Her emerald eyes bore into Miss Eddison's, daring her to press further. "I'm fine."

"Fine?" Miss Eddison's brows furrowed. "You're falling asleep in class, snapping at everyone who tries to talk to you, and barely scraping by with your grades. That's not fine, Ivy." She softened her tone and took a step closer. "Whatever you're dealing with, you don't have to handle it alone. I'm here."

Ivy's expression remained cold. "I didn't ask for your help."

Silence fell over the hallway, broken only by the distant murmur of students on the move. Miss Eddison studied Ivy for a moment, her shoulders sagging slightly in defeat. Before she could speak, the bell shrieked, ending the period. Students began spilling out into the hallway, their chatter filling the air. Miss Eddison placed a hand on the doorframe, hesitating as if she wanted to say more. But Ivy was already walking away, her bag slung over one shoulder, weaving through the growing crowd. Miss Eddison watched her go, worry etched across her face.

⋯

The school hallway was a chaotic mess, and Ivy's patience wore thinner with each jostle and shove. A group of boys from her year lingered near the lockers, their laughter loud and obnoxious. Just as Ivy tried to slip by, Jake, a skinny, gangly kid with a smirk that could curdle milk, deliberately stepped in front of her.

"Look what the cat dragged in," he drawled, his voice dripping with fake sweetness. "It's the academic disaster herself. Lost your way, Reyna? Or did the teachers finally realise that you're simply too weird to teach?" His words were immediately followed by a chorus of snickers from his cronies. 

Ivy kept her gaze down, her teeth pressing against the inside of her cheek to suppress a retort. She tried to slide past him, but another boy seized her arm, tugging her backward.

"Not so fast," he sneered. "We're just trying to be friendly."

"Let go of me," Ivy growled, jerking her arm free. But before she could escape, Jake grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked, forcing a sharp cry of pain from her lips. The sound drew the attention of nearby students, who stopped to watch the scene unfold.

Among them was Arleigh, standing slightly apart from the crowd. The buzz of attention surrounding her felt like a constant hum, but she remained still, her expression unreadable. Her gaze flickered toward Ivy and the boys, a momentary shadow crossing her composed demeanour. Her fingers tightened subtly around the strap of her designer bag, but she stayed rooted in place, a silent observer, neither intervening nor turning away. Ivy's hands balled into fists so tight, her nails drew crimson half-moons on her palms. She remained stubbornly silent, a stoic statue in the face of their torment, but this only seemed to fuel their cruel amusement. A meaty shove sent her slamming against the lockers, the cold metal biting into her spine. "Leave me alone," she finally spat, her voice a low growl, edged with a fury that simmered beneath the surface. Jake, a sneering hyena, cracked a laugh that scraped at her ears. "Oh, are we scared now? Quit being a pussy and make us then, bitch." His words oozed malice, as he shoved her again, harder this time. The other boys chimed in with jeers, their taunts growing more aggressive, their movements more threatening, like caged animals sensing a weakness. They encircled her, their faces contorted in ugly delight as they closed in, a mob relishing their power. But then, Ivy lifted her gaze, locking onto Jake, and something shifted. The vibrant green of her irises seemed to ignite with a strange, unnatural light, like emerald embers glowing with inner fire. Jake's smirk wavered, his swagger faltering. Confusion clouded his eyes, quickly followed by something far more potent – a raw, undeniable fear that made the cruelty on his face vanish, replaced by stark, unsettling terror. A jolt of raw power, unexpected and exhilarating, surged through Ivy. Simultaneously, Jake staggered backward, hands flying to his chest, his face contorted with a fear so profound it was almost primal. "What—what the fuck is that!?" he gasped, his voice raw. Then, to the horror of his friends, he collapsed, writhing and screaming on the cold tile. Ivy blinked, the glow in her eyes fading as quickly as it had appeared. She stared at Jake, her heart pounding. The hallway, save for Jake's broken sobs, fell unnaturally silent. The other boys were frozen, mouths agape. Without a word, Ivy grabbed her bag and straightened her blazer. She cast one last glare at the group before walking away, her footsteps echoing in the stunned silence. Behind her, the boys began arguing, their voices a mix of confusion and fear. Among the crowd, Arleigh turned away, her lips pressed into a thin line as she disappeared into the sea of students. Whatever emotions churned behind her perfect façade, she kept them buried deep, out of sight.

But Ivy didn't look back. Her mind was racing, the memory of Jake's terrified expression seared into her thoughts. Whatever had just happened, she couldn't deny the strange sense of satisfaction it brought. For the first time in a long while, she felt like she had some control. But that thought only deepened the unease gnawing at her.

As she turned a corner, the noise of the hallway faded, leaving Ivy alone with her thoughts. The wisps' voices echoed faintly in her mind once more: "We aren't done with you yet." Ivy clenched her fists, her jaw tightening. Whatever was happening to her, it wasn't over. Not by a long shot.