My alarm buzzed at 6:00 AM on a Saturday, a day that, in my previous life, had marked my brutal end. I was Sarah Miller, an idealistic AP History teacher who poured her soul into ungrateful students, but that version of me was buried under crushing betrayal. The memory was a raw wound: my star student, Ethan Vance, and the school's perpetually problematic queen bee, Jessi King, conspired to murder me after I urged them to take responsibility for their SATs. They meticulously staged my death as a suicide, claiming I succumbed to guilt after Jessi "missed" her crucial exam due to my harsh insistence on timing. Jessi, the manipulative mastermind, then became a media darling, showered with sympathy and a full scholarship, while my parents, honest and respected figures on the School Board, were relentlessly cyberbullied by her lies. Within a year, they died heartbroken, their spotless reputations in tatters, a consequence I painfully witnessed from a horrifying space between lives. The profound injustice burned as I heard Jessi's cold, clear voice gloating, "She and her parents got what they deserved. Now I get what I deserve." But then, a jolt, and I was back: 6:01 AM, the same Saturday, the same familiar scent of coffee and sliver of sunlight. This time, Sarah Miller was not the naive martyr; she was a woman reborn, cold, calculating, and armed with every chilling detail of their treachery. With a prestigious PhD and a guaranteed job offer from an international school in Geneva safely secured, my priority was no longer their future, but my and my parents' escape from their toxic world. This time, I would watch them sow their own destruction, because the idealistic fool was gone, replaced by someone who would ensure Jessi King got exactly what she deserved.
My alarm buzzed at 6:00 AM on a Saturday, a day that, in my previous life, had marked my brutal end.
I was Sarah Miller, an idealistic AP History teacher who poured her soul into ungrateful students, but that version of me was buried under crushing betrayal.
The memory was a raw wound: my star student, Ethan Vance, and the school's perpetually problematic queen bee, Jessi King, conspired to murder me after I urged them to take responsibility for their SATs.
They meticulously staged my death as a suicide, claiming I succumbed to guilt after Jessi "missed" her crucial exam due to my harsh insistence on timing.
Jessi, the manipulative mastermind, then became a media darling, showered with sympathy and a full scholarship, while my parents, honest and respected figures on the School Board, were relentlessly cyberbullied by her lies.
Within a year, they died heartbroken, their spotless reputations in tatters, a consequence I painfully witnessed from a horrifying space between lives.
The profound injustice burned as I heard Jessi's cold, clear voice gloating, "She and her parents got what they deserved. Now I get what I deserve."
But then, a jolt, and I was back: 6:01 AM, the same Saturday, the same familiar scent of coffee and sliver of sunlight.
This time, Sarah Miller was not the naive martyr; she was a woman reborn, cold, calculating, and armed with every chilling detail of their treachery.
With a prestigious PhD and a guaranteed job offer from an international school in Geneva safely secured, my priority was no longer their future, but my and my parents' escape from their toxic world.
This time, I would watch them sow their own destruction, because the idealistic fool was gone, replaced by someone who would ensure Jessi King got exactly what she deserved.
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