The Other, Darker Side of Me

At first she didn't know what was happening. Other kids kept asking why she'd said horrible things about them, but she hadn't said anything. I had. I created the first fake account after lunch one day, copied her profile picture, her bio, everything. The girls in front of her in maths kept whispering and glaring, watching the posts appear in real time. She looked confused. That part thrilled me. When the bell rang, someone confronted her in the corridor repeating the exact line I'd written under a stolen photo. On the bus home she messaged a friend, who sent her a screenshot of the account. Then another. And another. Every time she reported one, I made a new one. It went on for weeks. I stared at the chaos I'd made and never once stopped.