At our high school reunion, my old deskmate suddenly walked up to me and asked, "Do you remember how you bullied me in middle school?" The chatter stopped instantly. Everyone looked at me. Even the livestream camera of our classmate, a famous influencer with millions of followers, turned to focus on my face. The whole world was waiting for me to prove my innocence. I smirked and pulled out a notebook, thick enough to be a weapon. Five hundred pages of receipts. "Tell me when and where I bullied you. Let's check the ledger." Who keeps a diary like this? A normal person? No. But I, unfortunately, have suffered from persecution paranoia since I was ten. I always felt like someone was out to get me, so I came prepared. 1 In elementary school, I was falsely accused of stealing a hair clip. They called me a thief with nothing but their words and demanded I prove I didn't do it. The clique relied on their numbers, drowning me in accusations. I had no friends, no one to back me up. I could only clench my teeth and let the tears fall. In the end, the matter was dropped. No one bothered me about it again, but no one cleared my name either. But it left a scar on my heart. Just like that, I developed persecution paranoia. I always believed there were "unruly subjects trying to harm the Emperor"—me. So, starting at age ten, I began keeping a diary. There was no "Today was sunny" or "I felt sad." It was a record of every grudge, every slight, every conflict. You could call it my "Book of Grudges." The purpose was simple: if I was ever falsely accused again, I could lay out a clear timeline and leave them speechless. Later, I did plenty of those "mental gymnastics" exercises popular online. One question was: [If someone at a reunion suddenly asks if you remember bullying them, how should you respond?] I skipped that question at the time. With my Book of Grudges, I didn't need to worry. But that absurd hypothetical became my reality. It had been ten years since middle school. Suddenly, someone in the group chat called for a reunion. As a freelancer, I didn't have many friends around, so I agreed without thinking. We had just started eating when a girl with short hair arrived late. She was painfully thin. Even with makeup, she radiated a bleak bitterness. The smile on her face was faint and fake, like a mask. Her eyes darted around with a calculating coldness. Having studied some physiognomy, I didn't want to engage with her. It wasn't until she introduced herself that I realized she was my old deskmate, Jenny. We were deskmates in name only; we didn't sit together for long. Seats were rotated monthly based on grades. I didn't expect that while I ignored her, she would come for me. 2 Among the attendees was a mega-influencer, Chloe. From the moment she walked in, she had been livestreaming. Chloe was a talker. Back in the day, she was the school gossip who couldn't keep a secret. She sat diagonally across from me, eating and talking non-stop. Just then, Jenny ran up to me, raising a glass of wine. She stepped right into the livestream frame. She didn't come with good intentions. A hint of sarcasm played on her face, her tone passive-aggressive. "Vivian, do you remember bullying me in middle school?" Jenny looked like the protagonist of a revenge drama who had suffered immensely. Years later, the ugly duckling returns as a swan for a grand entrance. She provokes the perpetrator, savoring their shock. Then pretends to be magnanimous, forgiving, and above it all. It was such a sensitive topic. As soon as Jenny spoke, everyone stopped talking. The noisy private room fell dead silent. Every classmate stared at me, each with their own thoughts. Chloe panned the camera, showing the whole scene. Then she gave my face a clear close-up. Thousands of people flooded the livestream instantly. They were all smirking, waiting for me to defend myself. [Bullies deserve to die! That woman looks mean.] [I grew up being bullied. I know exactly how helpless it feels.] [Does anyone else feel like this is a setup?] [No way, who would joke about this at a reunion? Victim blamers, get out.] [If she didn't do anything, it's still hard to prove a negative.] [Are you empathizing with the bully? You must be one too!] Although my face showed confusion, it wasn't panic or guilt. I was wondering if Jenny was pulling a prank, so I asked: "Are you sure? You say I bullied you. When?" Jenny sneered contemptuously, looked at the ceiling, and sniffled loudly. She looked like she was holding back tears. "You locked me in the bathroom and poured water on me." "You locked me in the teacher's office all night." "You snapped all the pens in my pencil case so I couldn't take the exam." "Forget it, why am I telling you this? It's been so many years. I've let it go." "Vivian, I don't plan to hate you anymore. Drink this glass, and let's reconcile." She tilted the glass toward me. I stared at the swirling red wine. If I clinked glasses with her, wouldn't that be admitting my guilt as a bully? 3 I extended a finger and pushed her wine glass away. Then I stood up, looking Jenny in the eye. "I never accept false accusations." "I thought you were joking." "Now I see you're serious." "Jenny, I really can't compete with people who are naturally talented at being ridiculous." Jenny came prepared. Her earlier setup was a retreat to advance, forcing me into a corner. How could she be here to reconcile, as she claimed? "Vivian, it seems the internet is right. Villains never know they've done evil." "How can you be so self-righteous! For ten years, I've had nightmares every day, dreaming of your ugly face." "Do you know the psychological trauma you caused me?!" Her eyes grew redder until a tear fell. Trembling fingers, shaking body, twitching facial muscles. Anyone else seeing her state would have felt a pang of guilt. But not me. I straightened my back and answered her with absolute certainty. "Jenny, I did nothing wrong to you. If you want to be an actor, don't practice on me." "You're an adult. You should know there are consequences for spreading rumors." "You open your mouth with no evidence, just tears falling pat-pat-pat. If that worked, lawyers should just merge with professional mourners." Jenny raised her volume, delivering a K-drama-worthy performance. "Don't threaten me! I was threatened by you back then, and now you want to do it again! Do you think I'm still that pushover?!" "You know it's hard to get evidence for these things, but you bullying me is a fact!" I wiped Jenny's spit off my face. She suddenly stepped closer, lowering her voice. "Vivian, I gave you an out, you should have taken it. Don't make this hard on yourself. Can you really explain this away?" "Why can't I?" I pulled a five-hundred-page diary from my bag. And slammed it onto her face. Since she insisted on embarrassing me, I wouldn't hesitate to ruin her socially. "Look closely. Everything that happened in the last ten years is recorded here. A dull pencil is better than a sharp memory." "You said I locked you in the bathroom and poured water on you. Please watch the VCR." I had already asked someone to project the contents of my notebook onto the wall of the room. "March 11th. Jenny didn't finish her math homework. Afraid of being scolded by the teacher, she dared not return to the dorm and locked herself in the bathroom." "She tried to get herself wet to catch a cold so she wouldn't have to do homework." "But she accidentally locked herself in the stall." "Everyone asked her how it happened, but Jenny wouldn't say." "Only I knew, because I was in the next stall, constipated." "My homeroom teacher can testify for me. I was the one who helped her out when my legs went numb." "May 27th." "The eve of the placement exam. Jenny went to the teacher's office to steal the answer key. Unexpectedly, the grade director had been kicked out by his wife that day and slept in the office all night." "Jenny had no chance to return and called me for help. She asked me to distract the director because I was the class representative. I still have the call logs saved on my hard drive." I read sentence by sentence. Logical, clear. Every word was a public execution of Jenny. Jenny interrupted me impatiently: "Enough! You even have call logs from ten years ago? You are too sinister!" The word "sinister" seemed so pale and weak right now. Even she seemed to panic, clenching her teeth, unsure how to end this. The livestream chat was buzzing. [Holy moly, who keeps a diary like this?!] [And she listed a clear timeline. The Chronicle of Events. I didn't even study history this seriously.] [This sister prepared a Book of Exoneration for herself in advance!] [Thought it was 'The Glory', turns out it's 'The Twilight Zone'.] Even at this point. Jenny still didn't want to give up. 4 "Maybe I don't remember those things clearly because it's been so long." "But you abusing the stray dog is true!" Jenny started crying to the livestream camera. "That puppy was named Lucky. I fed him every day after school. But suddenly, one day, Lucky never ran to me happily barking again." "It was this vicious woman! I saw her drug Lucky, beat him, force water down his throat, and finally, Lucky died that winter." "Since then, there has been a small grave at the school." "Stop denying it! The school surveillance cameras captured it all!" Jenny wiped her tears, a glint of success in her eyes. This move was clever. Even harder to disprove than bullying, since there was no witness. The vet clinic that treated Lucky had closed down, so I couldn't get a diagnosis record. I thought my self-defense earlier would calm the livestream audience. Unexpectedly, a wave of bots flooded the chat. All accusing me: [She's so twisted, who keeps a grudge book like that!] [Is she a serial killer? And she abuses dogs?] [What did the puppy do wrong! Hang in there, short-haired girl! These psychos are usually deep schemers.] I admit I'm dark. Normal people don't keep ledgers of grudges. But calling me a psycho dog abuser? That won't stand. Jenny seemed to relax silently, thinking she could proceed with her plan. I pulled out another weapon. No witnesses? Did she think I didn't have physical evidence? "I knew text could have flaws and sometimes isn't convincing enough." "I have terabytes of video." "Lucky was a dog you couldn't tame. Every time I fed him medicine, he was fierce." "To catch him and take him to the vet, I almost fought him. In the end, I had to drug him." I skillfully connected my phone and clicked screen mirroring. The restaurant's Wi-Fi was fast. Soon, images from ten years ago appeared. In the video, I faced the camera: "It is 6 PM on the 20th. I am preparing to kidnap the school's limping dog, Lucky, to take him to the vet." As soon as I approached, Lucky bared his teeth at me. I had no choice but to return to the camera. "The wound on Lucky's leg is deep enough to see bone. He needs stitches. But the dog won't cooperate. Clearly, there is no basic trust between human and dog." "Now I need to put a pill in a sausage." Lucky ate the sausage and soon stopped moving. The footage shook as I carried Lucky, preparing to leave for the vet. I ran into a short-haired girl coming down the stairs. She pointed at me and screamed: "I saw you drug Lucky! If you're hungry, buy food! Why eat dog meat?!" In the video, I froze for a second looking in the direction of the voice. Then I cursed at her. I was a rebellious teen once; I couldn't take that kind of slander. "If your brain is full of water, shake it out. The sun is so bright, and it still hasn't dried you out." She was clearly stunned by my scolding, freezing in place. I rolled my eyes and walked straight ahead. Walking to the school gate, I explained to the camera: "That psycho just now was Jenny, my deskmate." "Always crying and whining, accusing people of bullying her at the drop of a hat." "Doesn't study seriously, eyes red, snot running down, pretending to be a strong little flower." "I feel like this girl will definitely try to harm me in the future, frame me for dog abuse." "When that happens, I'll release the evidence." And I was right. Ten years later, Jenny really accused me of abusing the dog. When those words appeared in the video, the whole room was shocked. Chloe covered her mouth in disbelief, screaming: "Fifty thousand viewers!" Another classmate jumped up from his seat excitedly. "Trending! Front page headlines! It blew up! It blew up!"
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