CHAPTER 1: THE DUMMY GIRL

My name is Mizuha.

I live in a small apartment on the sixth floor of Mihna Institute’s old residential block. The building is older than it looks.

The paint peels in thin flakes near the balcony rails, and the elevator only works when it feels merciful.

Every morning, I leave at 7:40 a.m.

Not because I need that much time to reach school.

But because walking slowly feels safer than standing still.

The street outside my building is never quiet. A tea stall whistles steam. Mechanics argue over engines. Delivery bikes squeeze through traffic like insects.

And then there are the men.

They don’t shout loudly.

They don’t need to.

“Why so serious, school girl?”

“Smile a little.”

“Where are you rushing to?”

Sometimes they just stare.

I keep my head down. Earphones in. No music playing. Just silence—so I can pretend I don’t hear them.

By the time I reach Mihna Institute, I’ve already survived my first test of the day.

Inside the gates, everything looks clean. Structured. Respectable.

But this is where the real noise begins.

I’m part of a group of four girls.

Or at least… I used to think I was.

We sit together. We eat together. We post pictures together.

But I was never really one of them.

I was the safe one.

The “nice girl.”

The one who carries extra notebooks. The one who laughs even when she doesn’t understand the joke. The one who never fights back.

The dummy.

It started with something stupid.

During lunch break, Rhea’s boyfriend came up to me.

“Hey, do you have the physics notes?” he asked casually.

“Yes,” I said. “You missed yesterday’s class.”

We stood near the corridor railing. It wasn’t secret. It wasn’t private.

It was two minutes.

Two minutes of normal conversation.

Then Rhea saw us.

Her smile disappeared.

That evening, my phone began to vibrate.

Instagram story.

A blurry picture of the corridor.

Caption:

“Some girls don’t understand boundaries.”

Then another one.

“Acting innocent doesn’t mean you are.”

Then another.

“Watch your friends.”

My name wasn’t mentioned.

But everyone knew.

By the next morning, whispers had already reached school.

“She talks to other girls’ boyfriends.”

“She’s pretending to be sweet.”

“I always knew she was fake.”

Rhea stopped sitting next to me.

Her boyfriend stopped looking at me entirely.

The other girls in our group didn’t defend me.

They didn’t accuse me either.

They just slowly shifted their chairs away.

As if I was contagious.

No one asked what really happened.

No one asked me.

That day, I didn’t eat lunch.

I went to the washroom instead.

The last stall. Always the last stall.

I locked the door and sat on the lid of the toilet seat.

And cried quietly.

Because even crying has witnesses in school.

When I came out, my eyes were swollen. I washed my face and practiced a neutral expression in the mirror.

Not sad.

Not angry.

Just empty.

By the end of the day, my phone was filled with notifications I didn’t open.

Seen messages.

Unfollow requests.

Muted group chats.

I thought that was the lowest point.

I was wrong.

Last period.

A knock on the classroom door.

The peon leaned inside and spoke to the teacher.

“Ma’am, the principal is calling. A new boy wants admission. They’re verifying his documents.”

The class immediately buzzed.

“A new guy?”

“Mid-semester?”

“Must be rich.”

“Or expelled from somewhere.”

I didn’t look up.

Boys meant attention. Noise. Drama.

And I already had enough of being someone’s topic.

But for some reason—

For a very small, unexplainable second—

I felt something shift.

Like air pressure changing before a storm.

I kept staring at my desk.

I told myself it didn’t matter.

But somewhere inside me, something whispered—

This isn’t random.

I didn’t know then…

That the boy who was about to enter Mihna Institute

would either pull me out of the shadows—

or drag me into something much darker.

And I had no idea

which one I was more afraid of.

End of Chapter 1.

TO BE CONTINUED...

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