Chapter 9: Interlude – Isabelle’s Plight
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“GOOD LUCK!!”

Without even waving goodbye, Liam turned around and began walking towards the castle. Isabelle was left at a loss for words. She could only stare at Liam’s back while hungry beasts were clawing at the base of the tree. Although his words may have reached her ears, her brain couldn’t process the information.

‘Why, why, why, why, why!? Why is he doing this!? Why won’t he help me!?’

Isabelle couldn’t understand. Anyone would love to help her, and why shouldn’t they? She was Isabelle Wheeler. Adjectives weren’t enough to describe her after all; there wasn’t a single word or statement that could encompass her eminence. So, why didn’t such a pitiful, depressing man like this not want to help her? It didn’t make sense.

From across the castle grounds, Isabelle glared at Liam. She loathed this man or rather despised him. Others had treated her with disdain, but not like this. No one talked down to her or had treated her with the contempt he had. When they did, after she insulted them, they always backed down – he didn’t. When she had ridiculed him, he didn’t even seem to care.

Mostly though, she hated his eyes. Whenever he looked at her, his apathetic eyes seemed to say he couldn’t care less about her. That was infuriating. It wasn’t even a look of disgust or contempt; it was as if she was nothing to him. The look in his eyes, however, never changed; it was the same no matter what he looked at. How could that be? Did he not have a heart? Feelings?

Crack!

“Eeeeeeek!!”

Isabelle screamed as the branch she was on began to break. The tree was so old it strained even under the weight of her light body. Knowing that it wouldn’t hold for long, Isabelle called out again.

“S-Save meee! I-I don’t wanna dieeeee!!”

Isabelle tried her best to appeal to Liam, bringing out every ounce of girlish charm possible, trying to appear as a damsel in distress. But…

Liam kept walking towards the castle without even bothering to turn around.

‘Huh, huh, huh, huh, huh, huh!? I don’t understand! Is he deaf!? Why isn’t he turning around!?’

It was incomprehensible. Not once, in her entire life, could she recall being treated this way. Even at an early age, everyone had adored her. As a toddler, her parents praised her for everything, no matter how insignificant. She felt genuine joy at receiving their praise and tried harder. It made her feel good, so she would keep doing whatever caused it.

By the time Isabelle was entering school and began interacting with other kids, her parent’s overzealous praise was deeply rooted in her psyche. It wasn’t in a negative way; at this point, it only served to boost her self-esteem, giving her confidence.

In school, Isabelle applied her best self. Whether with her teachers or fellow students, she did her best to try and make everyone happy. Her reasoning was simple - if she made people happy, then she would get more praise.

Through hard work and dedication, Isabelle was able to excel in her schoolwork, athletics, and social relationships. Before long, everyone in school loved her. With more friends than anyone else, kids started referring to her as the queen. She didn’t care about silly titles or prestige; all she cared about was making as many people as possible happy. However, the first of many cracks appeared in her perfect world the summer before middle school.

Every summer, Isabelle and her best friend Grace went to the same summer camp, Camp Woodstock. The summer before middle school the plan was no different. As usual, Isabelle was doing her best to make everyone happy. Whether it was assisting the camp counselors or getting kids involved in activities, she was always busy helping others. One day, when she was putting away the swimming floats before lunch, she was confronted by three boys.

“Stop kissing up to the counselors… It’s annoying.”

“You’re an eyesore, get lost.”

“Hey stupid, don’t you know nobody likes you?”

They had cornered her near a shed, out of sight from anyone passing by. They pushed her down and began insulting her. At the time, Isabelle genuinely didn’t understand what was happening.

‘Why are they being so mean to me.’

It was her first encounter with bullying. Up until this point, everyone around her had been friendly. Her elementary school was small, and everyone knew each other, so fights were rare. Isabelle had never encountered harassment, so she couldn’t understand why they were picking on her; all she could do was break down in tears. As the boys were laughing at her, a savior appeared.

“STOP IT!!”

Grace ran over, forcing herself between Isabelle and the boys.

“Stay out of this, ugly!”

One of the boys shoved Grace. Staggering backward, Grace stopped herself from falling and planted her feet firmly on the ground. She held her arms out as far to the sides as she could, creating a wall between the boys and Isabelle. With a hard, determined look, she glared at the boys.

“No, I won’t let you hurt Isabelle! You can do whatever you want to me, just leave Isabelle alone!”

“We don’t care about you! Now move it, outta the way!”

Grace stood firm, as one boy tried to push her for the second time, his face twisted in rage; he’d had enough of Grace’s interference.

“Why you-!”

The boy grabbed the collar of Grace’s shirt, forming a fist with his other hand. Grace clenched her eyes shut and shouted.

“You’re just jealous! That’s the only reason you’re picking on her!”

‘Jealous? Of me? Why?’

At the same time, Isabelle thought this, the boy’s fist stopped inches away from Grace’s nose. His cheeks were a light shade of pink as he stuttered.

“W-Why would anyone be jealous of her!? Stop making stuff up!”

Grace opened her eyes. Staring direct into the boy’s, she yelled,

“Because Isabelle's better than you at everything! She’s amazing at everything she does! Compared to her, you’re nothing!”

‘I’m amazing? Really?’

From Isabelle’s perspective, everything she accomplished was a result of hard work. She had never thought of it as anything special. In her eyes, she was no different from her peers.

“W-what! That’s stupid! She’s just a nerd! No one would be jealous of her!”

“Don’t compare us to a loser like her!”

“I’ll teach you to make fun of me!”

All three boys shouted at the same time as they raised their fists; Grace’s words had gotten under their skin. At the same time, they all descended on Grace.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

Grace winched in pain as their fists struck her face, arms, and stomach, knocking her down. With tears in her eyes, she pushed herself back up. As the boys prepared to strike again, a mature voice called out from across the pool area.

“Hey, you guys, what are you doing over there!? Stop messing around! It’s time for lunch!”

Hearing the camp counselor, the three boys froze; their faces white as ghosts. They quickly looked at each other before sprinting off, fleeing the scene. None of them wanted to be caught red-handed for beating up two girls.

“Grace! Grace!”

Isabelle rushed over to Grace and began checking her up and down, assessing her injuries.

“Are you okay? Ah, your nose is bleeding! Don’t worry! I’ll go get a counselor!”

Before Isabelle could run away, Grace grabbed her arm.

“I’m fine. It's just a bloody nose.”

Wiping her nose with one arm, Grace gave a reassuring smile to the teary-eyed Isabelle.

“See, nothing to worry about!”

“… sniff… Really?”

Isabelle sniffled again as she looked at Grace.

“Of course! See… Ouch…!”

Grace tried to show off by throwing some punches in the air and jumping around but ended up wincing in pain. She wouldn’t admit it, but her face, arm, and stomach all hurt badly. However, in front of Isabelle, she felt she had to act tough; otherwise, Isabelle might feel guilty.

“I knew it! We really should get a counselor! Come on, let’s go!”

Isabelle grabbed Grace’s hand and began pulling; she was going to drag Grace to the counselors if she had too. But Grace was stronger and tugged on Isabelle’s arm, forcefully spinning her around.

“Grace, I-I-I’m sorry! It’s all my fault you’re hurt!”

Isabelle cried, streams of tears running down her cheeks. She had done her best to hold them back but couldn’t any longer. Without saying anything, Grace hugged Isabelle tightly. Burying her face into Grace’s shoulder, Isabelle tried to speak.

“Grace, I-I’m so sorry… for me, you… you… why did you…?”

“I said I’m fine… Hey, we’re best friends, right?”

“Mhm…”

“Well, best friends look out for each other! There’s no way I’d let those guys pick on you!”

“… sob… Thanks… sob… Grace…”

The remainder of the summer camp was peaceful for both Isabelle and Grace. Neither the boys nor anyone else bullied or harassed them. Soon they had put the incident behind them, and as time went on, they both forgot about it. However, Isabelle’s eyes had been opened to a new emotion…

Jealousy.

Isabelle had never paid attention to it before. While she knew what it was, she never thought it could be directed at her. By the time middle school started, she was noticing it all the time.

Why was everyone so envious of her?

Trying to make sense of it, she compared herself to others. Slowly, she began to notice differences; she was more attractive, athletic, and intelligent than her peers. Gradually, day-by-day, she changed. By the time she was entering high school…

‘I see... I’m amazing… No, extraordinary… Wait, that’s not right either…’

Her narcissistic personality formed. From there, her ego continued to grow as her character became more twisted. Until finally, she was a completely different person, no trace of the old happy, pleasing Isabelle remained; she no longer thought about others, only she mattered.

“Isabelle, what do you mean?”

Grace’s brow creased in confusion; she had heard what Isabelle said, but it didn’t register. Sitting across the table from her in the high school cafeteria, Isabelle rolled her eyes.

“Ugh, I told you to leave. Don’t you get it? I don’t want you near me. You’re an eyesore.”

“What! Why?”

Even though they spent less time together than they had in middle school, as Grace had gotten involved in sports and Isabelle became more social, they had remained friends – best friends. At least that’s what Grace had thought.

“Listen, do you really not get it? I’ve been humoring you, pitying you actually, but now it’s getting old. Get lost.”

Isabelle made a shooing motion as if she was trying to brush away a fly. Following Isabelle’s lead, the popular girls sitting at the table giggled.

“Aahahaha! Did you actually think Isabelle would be friends with you?”

“Get lost, you ugly bitch.”

Grace’s face had an expression of anxiety and confusion as she looked to Isabelle again, hoping this was all a big joke.

“Isabelle, I don’t understand. I thought we were best-!”

Isabelle cut Grace off.

“Friends? Is that what you thought? Don’t make me laugh. We were never friends. You were just... hmm, a…”

Resting her finger on her chin with her head tilted, Isabelle smirked at Grace. The table erupted in laughter as the girls surrounding Isabelle joined in on the fun.

“Ahahaha, I think you mean dog, Isabelle!”

“Can you bark for us, Grace!? Speak! Speak!”

“Sit! Rollover! Come on! I’ll give you a treat… Ahahaha!”

Tears formed in the corners of Grace’s eyes. Despite all the mean things said to her, she didn’t want to believe this was Isabelle – no, it wasn’t the Isabelle she knew.

“Isabelle, why are-?”

“You’re still here? Shoo, shoo pooch!”

Grace didn’t need an answer to her question; Isabelle’s response was enough. With Isabelle’s friends still laughing at her, Grace turned around and sprinted out of the cafeteria; the world around her shattered, she didn’t know what to do or think. She just knew she needed to get away as quickly as possible; she wanted to be anywhere but there.

BARK! BARK! BARK! BARK! BARK!

Isabelle jumped at the sound of the dogs barking. Around the base of the tree, they were climbing over each other in a frenzy, trying to reach her.

“No! Get away from me!!”

Isabelle kicked down at the crazed dogs below her, knocking one back. Immediately, it got up and resumed clawing at the tree.

Looking towards Liam, Isabelle saw his back growing smaller and smaller as he walked away.

‘No! No! No! This can’t be happening! This isn’t real! This can’t be real!’

Fear filled her thoughts; death was closing in on her as her last line of hope disappeared into the distance. Isabelle frantically cried out to Liam.

“Wait, come back!!”

Silence.

“Don’t go!”

Silence.

“Save me! Help! Help me!!”

Silence.

“Please, don’t…”

Isabelle stopped short of finishing her sentence. No matter how much she cried, Liam showed no intention of turning around. Her thoughts turned chaotic.

‘What can I do!? Is there anything? Please… I can’t die, I can’t! Why won’t he help? Why? Why? Why? Something, there has to be something I can do. How did I do it before? How can I change his mind? Something, something… Ah! That! There’s still that!! It’ll work! It always works!’

Isabelle’s eyes glimmered with hope, the belief she could survive reemerged in her. What she needed to do was simple.

Apologize.

For what? She didn’t know, nor did it matter. All that mattered was once she did, all would be forgiven. As long as there were tears in her eyes and regret in her voice, it would work.

Actually, as far as she was concerned, Liam was the one who should be asking for forgiveness, not her.

Isabelle immediately raised her voice.

“I-I’m sorry! I’m... sniff... Sorry… Please help me! I’ll do whatever you want… sniff… Just please don’t leave me!!”

With tears running down her cheeks, Isabelle threw away her pride and begged. If she could've gotten on her hands and knees, she would've. She lamented pleading with someone like Liam, but there was no other choice.

However, contrary to her expectations, her cries were met with silence. Isabelle blinked, unable to understand what went wrong.

‘Maybe he didn’t hear? Yeah, that’s it!!’

Isabelle tried again.

“Listen, I’m really, truly, sorry! This situation has just stressed me out! I’m sure you can understand, right!? It won’t happen again, I promise! Please, help me!! Give me another chance!!”

Tears poured down Isabelle’s face as she pleaded for Liam’s help. She called to him again and again until he was gone. No matter what she had said, he never turned around. With his absence, she was struck by a sense of loneliness. It was strange; there had never been a point in her life where she had felt alone.

‘Why? Why am I alone?’

In her greatest time of need, no one was there to help her. Her blatant disrespect of the people around her had led to isolation.

‘If only my friends were here…’

Isabelle’s thoughts stopped there. Would her friends have helped her? Like a slap in the face, she realized the truth – she had no real friends. She had been alone for a long time. At one time, she had been surrounded by people who genuinely cared for her. Now all she was left with were people who only cared about themselves.

‘Is there anyone who would save me?’

One came to mind, a friend from long ago, but she had burned that bridge. Looking at death head-on, she began regretting her actions.

‘Why did I act like that? Why did I say all those things? Why did I…’

It was a moment of clarity, the kind an addict might experience when they realize they need help and check themselves into rehab of their own free will.

Isabelle hadn’t always been this way. When she was younger, she was kind and caring. Even now, that part of her personality existed; it was buried deep beneath her over-inflated ego.

If personalities were similar to a painting, then at first, everyone is a blank canvas. As people grow, paint is added with life experiences. Once the paint dries, those experiences have a lasting impact. As more colors are added, they become further defined, but never complete. People continue to accumulate experiences throughout their lives, so more paint is always being added. People can change and do change. Sometimes a little push is all it takes. One brush stroke of white paint on an otherwise dark background can open up a new path in an entirely different direction.

Isabelle could change. No, right now, she was changing. By searching for an explanation for Liam’s behavior, she ended up reflecting on herself. For the first time in her life, she considered her behavior from an outsider’s perspective.

SNAP!

The branch she was sitting on finally broke under her weight. Falling to the ground, Isabelle closed her eyes, giving up.

‘I have no one to blame but myself…’

At this moment, given another chance or offered forgiveness, Isabelle would gladly reform. She vowed that she would make amends and live as a better person. At the same time, she realized that the opportunity would never come. As she was about to hit the ground, something snapped within her.

‘…NO!! WHY ME!!?!? WHY!?!?’

Isabelle felt a fury that she had never felt before. Here she was, willing to work to become a better person, yet no one was giving her a chance. That wasn’t fair. Why should she have to die? Why did the dogs go after her and not Liam? How come no one would help her? How come she had to be stuck with a good-for-nothing guy? Nothing was fair.

Isabelle felt instant animosity towards everything; the world had forsaken her and left her to die. None of it was her fault; it was everyone else’s. The world hated her, so she hated it.

Isabelle cursed everyone. She rescinded her earlier thoughts about reforming. If she were given another chance, she’d make sure no one disrespected her again. It was a mistake to let her followers think of themselves as her friend. For her, there were no such things as friends – there were only servants. They should be content with groveling, begging to be of some use.

“Aaaaaaahhk!!”

Isabelle screamed as her body slammed against the ground. As she scrambled to her feet, the dogs were charging toward her.

“FUCK YOU, YOU SHITTY BASTARD! I HOPE YOU DIE!!”

Isabelle’s personality was muddied; just as a single brush of white paint isn’t enough to change an otherwise dark painting to light, a single eye-opening moment wasn’t enough to straighten out her twisted personality.

In the end, she chose not to change.

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