I need to find it. 

Papers shift across my hands as I dig frantically through the drawers. I need to find it. I need to find it. I need to find-

A click in the hallway outside. I freeze as light peeks under the door, shining golden brilliance into the dark room. Into the scene of my crime. A rustle comes from the bed behind me, and I hold my breath.

The light clicks off. A breath of relief, and I resume the digging. I reach the bottom of the drawer, and my hands run across its smooth wood. Nothing. How could there be—it should be here.

Papers rustle as wind shoots through the crack in the window. A faint fluttering comes from beside me. I look on the desk, and there it lies. 

Carefully caressed pages patter against soft fabric, bathed in moonlight on the deep oak surface. My hands reach out to touch the tender emotions, secrets wrapped deep inside. 

“Are you sure you want to be doing this?”

Hand on the cover, I freeze. My breath catches in my throat as I shrink back, frantically looking around. My victim turns quietly in her blankets.

“Who said that?” I whisper.

No one responds. Perhaps it was just my imagination. 

Sliding the door open a crack, I scurry out, treasure in hand. Tomorrow. Tomorrow she will find out. But she won’t suspect me. She never suspects me. Giggles are threatening to burst out of my body, sending tingles through my muscles. She never suspects me. I am safe. 

I am safe… right?

***

My hands are trembling. She is not here yet. Class starts soon. Really soon. Has she figured something out? If she has… I don’t want to think about what could happen. 

The door creaks open, and I stiffen. Isshehereisshehereisshe—

She walks in. She seems oblivious. A bit sleepy, maybe. Good. If she’s sleepy, chances are she won’t notice if I act strange.

She walks over, pausing in front of my desk. “Hey, Laura—”

Stop talking. Stop talking right now. No. You did not figure anything out. Stop talking.

“Are you ok? You seem tense.”

I sigh with relief. She doesn’t know. I have to pretend. Pretend it’s all fine.

“Yeah, Maya, don’t worry about it,” I reply, a smile on my face.

Yeah, that’s it. She doesn’t know a thing.

“If you say so,” she mutters. She’s a kind person. It’s a shame, really, that she is friends with me. 

The gentle lull of the sun and the teacher’s voice quiets my thoughts somewhat, but I can’t help but sneak peeks at Maya, carefully observing her expression as she talks with our other classmates. If she knows anything, it doesn’t show. 

She has always been perfect. She would be more perfect if she didn’t bother with any of the others. Why would she need anyone else with me around? It’s unfair. Maybe if I understand her better, she would like me better too. I would be special to her again. The only one she’ll ever need.

“You know that taking her things isn’t going to make her like you,” someone says.

The voice again.

I narrow my eyes. “Who are you?” I whisper, “Where are you, and how are you following me?”

Maya looks over at me, a strange expression on her face. “Did you say something?”

I shake my head. “Nothing,” I reply.

*** 

After class ends, I head back to my dorm. Papers are strewn carefully across my desk, obscuring my treasure. Shakily, I brush them aside. The bound pages seem to sing. They are calling me, I am sure. Calling me to come forth and feast my eyes upon the secrets within. 

I flip open the cover. 

September 15th.

Today I met a kid named Laura. She seems a bit odd, but nice enough. I think I want to be friends with her. It’s a bit lonely here without anyone familiar. 

My heart threatens to flutter out of my chest. An entry about me! She cares about me! 

February 12th

Amanda asked me to sit with her at lunch today. She seems cool! We like a lot of the same stuff, and it was really nice talking to her. 

My eye twitches as I scowl. I know that I’m not special to her anymore, but to blatantly write it out like this? Am I not enough? Why did she have to go off and find someone else?

I let go of the book in disgust, and the pages flap open, slowly settling to a well-worn page. It looks like it has been pressed down over and over, maybe through frustration. A grin spreads across my face. This is what I’ve been searching for. 

March 17th

Frankly, Laura scares me.

I furrow my eyebrows. What? What have I done?

She’s acting weirder and weirder with every passing day. Sometimes I feel like I can hear footsteps pacing right outside my room in the middle of the night. I don’t want to make any false accusations, but I’m feeling more and more like she’s stalking me. 

Stalking..? 

“It’s nothing as bad as that,” I mutter. 

April 10th

I’m hearing footsteps outside my room more and more often now. One time, I opened my door just a crack, and I thought I saw Laura’s silhouette staring right at me. I’m terrified. I don’t know what she’s planning to do to me, but I don’t think I’ll like it. I should tell the teachers.

I grip the pages tightly, the diary ripping slightly in my hands. 

April 12th

The teachers said that they couldn’t do anything unless she was seen in my room. I’m scared. I’m so scared. I will stay up tonight. Maybe, maybe she’ll come in and I can catch her. If she comes in, I’m not sure what I will do. If I can’t act well enough, she’ll know something is up. Please. Please someone help me. I don’t know how much longer I can handle this. 

My hands are trembling. That was yesterday. April 12th. She was awake the whole time, lying in wait. Waiting for me. And I had fallen right into her trap. 

“You’re reaping the consequences of your actions.”

“Shut up, voice,” I mutter, “I don’t need all that guilty conscience stuff right now.”

A knock on my dorm door. Fumbling, I shove some papers back over the diary, covering it. They won’t see anything. They never do. 

I opened the door. A group of teachers stand outside. They tower over me. 

They never see anything… right?