THE PINK SLIP

Valentine's Day at Rosewood High always felt like a trap disguised as a holiday.

The halls were plastered with posters declaring "LOVE IS IN THE AIR!" in glitter so thick it left streaks on your fingers, and pink and red paper hearts dangled from the ceilings like they were laughing at anyone who hadn't been asked to the dance.

I walked past them, shoulders hunched, backpack heavy, pretending the fluorescent lights overhead weren't buzzing like nervous electricity. I kept my head down, my earbuds in, ignoring the usual chaos: couples holding hands in the hall, boys bumping into lockers trying to act casual, girls whispering secrets in corners with laughs that sounded too loud and too sharp.

It should have been just another high school morning, but the moment I opened my locker, I knew it wasn't.

There was a Pink Slip sitting there. Pale pink. Wrongly innocent-looking.

My heart started hammering. Was I surprised? Yes! or maybe it was shocking more than a surprise.

Now, who the hell left it in here? In my locker?

Confused I stare at it. It was unremarkable at first glance. It didn't look like a normal pink slip it was shiny and glossy something special about it. I froze for a moment thinking about the old tales and rumors that were spread throughout the Rosewood High for the past years.

Was it this? Nah it can't be. Not in my locker. Those are just rumors and nothing can't be real. Rumors are always rumors, tales that are created by liars and dramatic students. Just for a fun scare!

This almost looks like someone had left it by mistake or someone was trying their days prank on me.

It's been couple of months from my first day now and yet they haven't stopped playing a prank on me and what isn't special on the valentine's week? Every single gets pranked in Rosewood High. Maybe I was to be attacked this time. Since I was new in here. My name is Maya and I moved here at Rosewood town a couple of months before. It being hard getting along in a new school, but it was getting a bit better now I would say but not with the prank

.

I stared at the pink slip without moving my gaze, uncomprehending, my hand trembling slightly as I picked it up. Except it wasn't just paper. It felt... warm, like it had a pulse of its own.

There was no envelope, no note, no name. Just a card. And on it, in neat, precise writing, five words: You're being the chosen one.

Now what the heck was that? I thought there could be a quote of love, or some lovey Dovey stuff but, What the heck was, you're being the chosen one? What did that mean?

I laughed nervously staring at the pale pink slip, because what else do you do when something is already creeping under your skin? Weird and strange. My laugh sounded wrong, hollow even, bouncing off the lockers and disappearing. I flipped it over, expecting some joke, some glittery pun. Nothing. Just blank paper with a tiny bullshit written on it. And yet I felt its weight, not in my hand, but in my chest, like it had slipped inside me and was already pressing against my ribs.

I didn't notice anyone watching at first. Then I felt a presence out of the corner of my eye, someone leaning against the lockers across from mine, smirking faintly. Ethan Cross, of course. Charming, obnoxious, the kind of boy who could make people forget to breathe. He was the basketball captain, and the most Greek god considered type of a guy. But it had nothing to do with me. He was just a classmate to me while the other girls died to be in his bed.

He winked at me with a smirk and left, carrying a basketball from his locker before I could react, laughing with his usual entourage. My stomach twisted. I didn't want his attention, not today, not ever, and yet I couldn't shake the image of him staring back at me from the other end of the hallway. He was always staring at me, even in the class which made me more uncomfortable around him.

Was he the one who was playing this joke at me? A thought captured me for a second if so, what does he mean by me being the chosen one?

The bell rang. Students surged forward in a wave of sneakers and locker doors banging here and there. I shoved the Pink Slip into my backpack, trying to convince myself it was nothing, a prank probably, or someone's idea of a stupid joke. But the warmth remained, crawling through the fabric, into my fingers, spreading like a warning I didn't understand.

Some kind of a weird feeling stayed within me.

------

Lunch came too fast. I found a quiet corner of the cafeteria with my usual meal of a cola and some fries with sandwich, far from the chatter, the selfies, the fake confessions scribbled in notebooks. Across the room, I saw them both. Noah Reed sitting alone, his soft brown hair that never quite stays neat - always messy because he runs through it more than one time. For a moment I stop my gaze fixed him. His green eyes were curiously sharp on his open sketchbook, head down, thinking hard and looking like he didn't belong anywhere in the chaos.

I had to admit, he looked cute in a quiet, almost disarming way.

I'd known Noah for a couple of months now. He wasn't loud like others. He didn't need to be. There was something steady about him - the way he explained math problems with patient smiles,the way he stayed back after tuition just to make sure I understood. He made things feel manageable and safe . When I sat beside him, the world didnt feel so sharp.

And then there was Ethan.

He stood at the center of the cafeteria like he owned it — laughing too loudly, throwing his head back, basking in attention. People orbited him. He thrived on it.

Untouchable. Unbothered. Worshipped.

I felt something twist inside my chest as I watched them both.

Somewhere between fear and fascination, I realized I wasn’t just observing them.

I was studying them.

Like a scientist documenting behavior before the experiment went wrong.

I tried to eat, but the food turned to ash in my mouth. Each swallow felt forced, mechanical. Around me, conversations blurred into static noise. At first, no one mentioned it. Or maybe they were pretending not to.

Then it started.

A whisper from the table behind me.

"Did you hear? they say someone got one of those... the Pink Slip thing." Another voice added, "It's probably a joke. Senior prank."

A chair scraped.

A pause.

Then, softer — almost thrilled someone whispered.

"They say whoever gets it... doesn't last the day."

My stomach dropped so hard it felt like the floor had vanished beneath me.

Doesn't last the day?....

I almost laughed to hide the panic, but I couldn't. And then, like the world had decided to remind me I wasn't dreaming, the card vibrated slightly inside my bag. Just a subtle shift, enough for me to freeze.

I froze. Not daring to touch it. My pulse rattled in my ears. It had moved. Not physically, not visibly, but I felt it.

Was it real?

--------

That night, I couldn't sleep. My room was dark, my alarm clock glowing faintly on the nightstand, but I didn't care about the time. I kept staring at my backpack, imagining the Pink Slip there, waiting. I imagined it leaning closer to me, like it knew exactly where I was and exactly what I was thinking. Somewhere deep inside, I realized-this wasn't just a Valentine joke.

This was something else. Something alive.

And the more I thought about it, the more I understood the unspoken rules, though I couldn't articulate them yet.

Love mattered. No infatuation. No jealousy. No convenience. No cheat. No lie. These things gives a chance for it, the legends say at Rosewood High.

Laying I wondered what if it was really it?.

Was the past repeating itself?

Had the nightmare returned like the rumors say?

Was Something we thought was over had begun again?

That familiar dread crept back into my chest as these vivid thoughts captured me.

The same pattern. The same fear. Starting all over again...

------

The next day at school, whispers followed me like a shadow. I could feel eyes on me, wondering if I had it.

Did they know?..

Did someone see that I had the pinkslip?

The hallways smelled of sweat, desperation, perfume, and chocolate-the perfect mix of adolescent panic. Shopia Jackson the bitchy cheerleader had her blonde hair tied up in a sleek pony wearing her usual bright pink tee and beidge tight skirt. She hadn't even noticed me looking at her locker, or maybe she had, and she'd shrugged it off.

Ethan in his black button down with the sleeves rolled carelessly to his elbow, the collar undone like rules didn't apply to him. A silver chain glinted at his throat when he continued his usual preening, while Noah as usual kept his head down, scribbling something frantic into his sketchbook.

I wonder what he always writes on it..

"Hello Maya" Ethan smirked.

"Hi" I looked away as soon as possible and moved towards my locker.

Noah looked up at me with a soft smile and I returned back my face turning hot.

------

By third period, my nerves were raw. I had spent every second calculating, replaying every interaction that were whispered around the school, wondering if I had already made a mistake.

I should never have picked it up on the first place.

And that was when I saw it, the card, sliding out of my bag on its own, moving slowly toward the locker across the hall.

I stood froze shocked.Panic started running through my veins. My heart started pounding,unable to understand what was happening.

I wanted to grab it, throw it away, run. But my hands felt frozen.

What was happening..

And then it stopped, perfectly still, in front of someone else's locker. My stomach lurched. I had done nothing yet, and already it had made its first move.

Fear glued me to the floor. My limbs locked up. Panic paralyzed me.

Something isn't right.

It was real wasnt it?

The rumors

The tales

The whispers that went around the school.

I felt it even harder this time.

The bell rang, echoing through the hall. Everyone shuffled to class, but I stayed frozen, staring at the locker where the Pink Slip rested, impossible and alive.

And as I did, I realized something terrifying: this Valentine's Day wouldn't end. Not for me, not for anyone.

We were all trapped. It was all coming back.

The cycle was starting over again..

I swallowed, heart hammering. I tried to calm myself, rationalize, pretend it was a joke. But the warmth under my skin, the quiet insistence in my chest, told me otherwise.

Maya....

Somewhere behind me, someone whispered my name. I turned, but no one was there. Only the card, quietly waiting, patient, deadly.

This was no prank for sure. It was real.

And then I understood: this was only the beginning of the past.