Rejected By Her Only Mate

Annabelle descended the creaking stairs that led into the living room, the old wooden steps groaning in protest beneath her weight. With a quick glance around, she retrieved her backpack from the couch and slung it over her shoulder before stepping out of the house.

The door slammed shut behind her, causing the entire house to shudder as if chilled by an unspoken presence. An expression of disgust crossed Annabelle's face, and she rolled her eyes in response.

Scowling at her home as if it were the source of her frustrations, she turned and walked away, a frustrated huff escaping her lips. Her father's choice of house was something she couldn't support. Among all the houses in the community, he had chosen one that even an elderly, wretched couple would refuse to live in.

Every aspect of the house oozed old-fashioned charm and weariness. Annabelle couldn't fathom how her father had managed to live in such a place before her arrival. It seemed to acquire a messiness of its own after being tidied up, and as a busy student, Annabelle had no time to handle household chores. If she wasn't occupied with experiments, her nose was buried deep in her books.

Following the passing of her mother, living with her father became her only option. Throughout her childhood, she had resided with her mother after her parents' divorce. Her father's addiction to drugs had plagued their family, with him frequently returning home late at night, intoxicated, and subjecting his wife to abuse whenever she voiced her concerns.

Though her father still struggled with addiction, Annabelle couldn't claim that he was a bad father. She was his only child, and he loved her, even if his actions didn't always reflect it. Despite his drunkenness, he would often apologize for hurting her when he regained his senses.

Their house was situated near the entrance of the woods. Stepping out of their back porch meant immersing oneself in the forest's embrace. The woods were no ordinary place, forever cast in shadows, darkness, and an eerie chill. Strange vibes permeated the air, and elusive shadows danced in the night.

Unusual noises frequently echoed through the woods, ranging from growls of unseen creatures to other unexplainable sounds. When Annabelle grew tired of the cacophony and decided to let her father know about it, a bottle came hurtling towards her, narrowly missing her as she instinctively ducked.

Such incidents had become commonplace, which was why she refrained from sharing her concerns about the woods with her father. He would have to discover the mysteries of the forest on his own.

Annabelle had grown accustomed to her father's behavior, as he would often act out when under the influence of alcohol, only to apologize profusely once sober. She couldn't complain too much, as her mother had endured similar mistreatment before filing for divorce.

She could tolerate her father's actions, but the strange noises in the woods were a different story. They left her sleepless, her eyes wide open in the night. Every glimpse of flickering shadows that vanished in an instant would send shivers down her spine. In her heart, she knew the woods harbored something dangerous, patiently waiting to pounce.

The woods were akin to a wolf in sheep's clothing, far from being a comforting place. Even when Annabelle sought solace on her balcony, taking a break from her studies at night, she couldn't shake the sensation of being watched by a malevolent presence. It was as if a time bomb lurked in the shadows, waiting to detonate. Someone was observing her, and she was well aware of it.

...

As the taxi pulled up in front of her school, Annabelle stepped out and paid the driver with the last few dollars she had. With a nod of gratitude, she entered the school premises while the driver swiftly drove away. There was something about the driver that seemed suspicious, always stealing glances at her through the rearview mirror.

Keeping her gaze fixed on the floor, she briskly walked through the school corridor, determined not to be late for her morning lectures. The stares she received from other students made her wonder if she had a pig perched on her head. Her uniform was impeccable, her black curly hair neatly brushed, cascading down her back.

Turning toward the sound of her name being called, she rolled her eyes upon realizing it was Williams, the school head prefect, accompanied by his group of friends. Williams had persistently asked her out on a date, but she had consistently turned him down. Despite his good looks and intelligence, he simply didn't ignite any romantic interest within Annabelle. She remained uninterested.

Before she could refocus on her destination, she accidentally bumped into Mirabelle, who hissed in response to their collision. "It was a mistake," Annabelle quickly apologized, offering a conciliatory look before resuming her hurried stride.

For some reason, Mirabelle had been itching for a fight, and Annabelle had been doing her best to avoid any confrontations, until now, when she unintentionally bumped into her. All thanks to Williams.

She had no interest in engaging in petty high school drama.

"You! Watch where you're going!" Mirabelle said in an offensive tone, and suddenly grabbed Annabelle by her hair. Annabelle winced and immediately pulled away, her hair already disheveled from Mirabelle's rough grasp.

"Are you blind? Can't you see that you just knocked over my notebook?" she yelled at Annabelle, who stared back at her with a blank expression.

Annabelle crouched down, picked up the notebook, and thrust it back into Mirabelle's hand, waiting for her to continue.