During crunch time for grad school applications, a spot in the library was more valuable than gold. That day, I woke up at 5 AM just to claim one. I went to the restroom for five minutes, and when I came back, all my books and notes were dumped on the floor. A girl was comfortably sitting in my spot, scrolling on her phone. I swallowed my anger. “Excuse me, someone’s sitting here.” She didn’t even look up. “Where? I don’t see anyone.” “You’re the worst kind of person, just leaving a few books to hog a spot all day. I’m here to put an end to that kind of entitlement.” I pointed at my scattered books. “I was in the restroom for five minutes. What gives you the right to steal my spot and throw my stuff?” “Five minutes? For all I know, you were off hooking up in the bathroom!” “Watch your mouth! Hooking up in the bathroom? Sounds like you do that often, doesn’t it?” As if I’d hit a nerve, she grabbed the coffee cup from the desk and splashed it straight into my face. “Here’s a little something to cool you down. Don’t go around barking like a mad dog. This spot is mine now.” The scalding coffee streamed down my face, burning painfully.
I glared at her, feeling my skin sear. The library was dead silent. Everyone was stunned by the sudden scene. Brittany, the girl who had just assaulted me, carelessly tossed the coffee cup. It hit the floor with a loud clatter. She crossed her arms, chin held high, her eyes full of scorn and provocation. “What are you looking at? Got a problem?” “What gives you the right to throw coffee on me?” My voice trembled with rage. Brittany scoffed, a sharp, piercing sound. “Because you’re just hogging a spot you’re not even using, and it’s messing with my grad school prep!” “I’m telling you again, I was only gone for the bathroom!” “Who’d believe that?” She rolled her eyes. “I can’t stand people like you. You don’t put in the effort, and you stop others from doing so.” I clenched my fists, my nails digging deep into my palms. A guy with glasses, Liam, couldn’t stand it anymore. He whispered, “Hey, that’s really out of line. She was here first.” Brittany immediately turned her venom on him. “Who asked you, huh? Trying to play hero? Take a good look in the mirror, buddy! You’re just another stressed-out grad student wannabe, so mind your own business!” Liam’s face flushed crimson. He opened his mouth to speak but couldn’t get a single word out. Finally, he just bowed his head, pretending to read. Seeing his reaction, Brittany became even more emboldened. She turned back, her gaze locking onto me. “Hear that? That’s called knowing when to back down. I’m telling you, I want this spot, so it’s mine. Now get lost, you’re bothering me.” I stared at her incredibly arrogant face, a wave of humiliated hatred surging from deep within me. I didn’t move. I just watched her with icy cold eyes. “What if I don’t leave?” Brittany froze for a second, apparently surprised I dared to talk back. Her eyes hardened. She grabbed my textbook, the one she’d thrown on the floor, and began tearing it page by page into tiny pieces. The sound of paper ripping was shockingly loud in the quiet library. “Not leaving? This is what you get!” She showered me with the scraps of paper, like a malicious rain. “Are you going to leave, or what?” Tears welled up in my eyes, but I forced them back. I couldn’t cry. Crying meant giving up. Just then, Ms. Albright, the librarian, rushed over, drawn by the commotion. “What’s going on? Why are you two making so much noise in the library?”
Seeing Ms. Albright, I felt a surge of hope, like grasping a lifeline. But Brittany beat me to it. Her face instantly crumpled into a mask of tearful injustice, her voice catching as she appeared utterly helpless. “Teacher, she’s bullying me!” She pointed at me, sobbing. “I just wanted to study quietly for my grad school applications. I saw this spot was empty, so I sat down.” “Who knew she’d start screaming at me, saying I stole her spot, and calling me names…” As she spoke, tears streamed down her face like a broken faucet. “…She even said people like me would never get into grad school and should just go back to the sticks and farm. I got upset and argued back, and then she just…” She cried, secretly glancing at me from the corner of her eye, a triumphant smirk hidden beneath her tears. Ms. Albright, a stern-looking woman in her fifties with bifocals, frowned as she listened to Brittany’s tearful account. Then she turned to me, her eyes filled with disapproval. “Look, I understand everyone’s under a lot of stress with grad school applications. But you can’t be so aggressive over a study spot.” I couldn’t believe my ears. “Teacher, *she* stole my spot first, she threw my books on the floor, she poured coffee on me, and she ripped my book!” I pointed at the mess on the floor and the coffee stains on my face, trying to prove I was telling the truth. Ms. Albright pushed up her glasses, her tone laced with impatience. “It’s just a spot, what’s the big deal? Why couldn’t you just let her have it? You’re a university student, for crying out loud. Where’s your composure?” She then turned to Brittany, her voice instantly softening. “Now, now, sweetie, don’t cry. Just sit down and study. Don’t let a small thing like this ruin your mood. Grad school is important.” Brittany immediately stopped crying, flashing me a victorious smile, then calmly sat down and opened her study materials. I stood there, frozen, feeling like a complete fool. My chest felt crushed by a giant boulder, making it hard to breathe. When did the world become so twisted, where the bad guy cries foul first and gets support? “Teacher, there are security cameras here! You can check the footage!” I said, clutching at a last shred of hope. Ms. Albright waved her hand, a ‘don’t bother me’ expression on her face. “Check what footage? It’s not worth the hassle for such a petty squabble.” “Alright, alright, everyone back to what you were doing. Don’t disturb other students.” With that, she turned and walked away, leaving me standing alone, subjected to the strange stares of those around me. Some held sympathy, some contempt, but most were just curious onlookers. I looked at Brittany’s smug face, at my ripped-up book on the floor, at the coffee stains drying on my skin. A chill ran from my feet straight to the top of my head. Slowly, I knelt down, picking up the torn pieces one by one. Each fragment felt like a knife twisting in my heart. Brittany’s friend, Courtney, another grad school applicant, walked past me with a water bottle. She feigned an “oops,” tilting the bottle, and half its contents spilled all over the wet paper I’d just gathered. “Oh, my bad, butterfingers,” she said, though a smirk played on her lips. Brittany laughed too. “Well, now. You won’t be able to piece *that* back together.” I looked up, my eyes bloodshot, glaring intensely at them. The two girls flinched under my stare, their smiles fading, and they quickly walked away. I stopped picking up the pieces. Instead, I slowly stood up and walked to Brittany’s desk. “I’m going to say this one last time. Get out of my spot.” My voice was quiet, but it was colder than ice. Brittany was momentarily taken aback by my intensity, but quickly regained her arrogant composure. “Who are you trying to scare? I’m not moving. What are you going to…” She didn’t get to finish her sentence. I grabbed the thick grad school English vocabulary book from her desk and slammed it straight into her face.
“Ah!” Brittany shrieked. The corner of the book hit her forehead squarely, instantly leaving a large red mark. Everyone in the library stood up in shock. “You hit me?” Brittany clutched her forehead, her face a mask of disbelief. Her friend, Courtney, reacted too, screaming as she lunged at me: “You psycho! How dare you hit Brittany? I’ll tear you apart!” I sidestepped, and she missed, crashing into a bookshelf. Books went “thud, clatter” everywhere. The scene descended into chaos. Ms. Albright and several campus security officers rushed over, forcibly pulling us apart. “Everyone, stop right there! What on earth is going on?! This is a library, not your personal arena!” We were taken to the university’s campus security office. Brittany sat in a chair, crying theatrically, as if she had suffered the greatest injustice. “Officers, look what she did to me!” “My head is throbbing, I need to go to the hospital. I’m definitely concussed!” She pointed at the red mark on her forehead, wailing to Officer Miller. “She’s just jealous! Jealous of my youth, jealous that I’m a better student! She can’t get into grad school herself, so she wants to ruin everyone else! People like her should be expelled!” Courtney chimed in, adding fuel to the fire: “Exactly! We all saw it, she threw the first punch! Brittany just wanted her to stop hogging the spot, and she went absolutely crazy!” Officer Miller, a grizzled, near-retirement security officer, listened to their twisted accusations, his brow furrowed into a deep ‘V’. He turned to me, his tone stern. “Alright, what really happened, young lady? Did you hit her first?” I took a deep breath, trying to keep my voice steady. “She stole my spot first, splashed coffee on me, and ripped my book.” “I asked her to leave, she refused, so I…” “I did not!” Brittany instantly cut me off, her voice an octave higher. “You’re lying! The coffee was an accident! You ripped your own book and are trying to blame me!” “You’re a total liar and a psycho!” Officer Miller rubbed his temples, annoyed by the bickering, and rapped his knuckles on the desk. “Alright, that’s enough, both of you!” He looked at me, speaking in a long-suffering tone. “Look, Chloe, no matter the reason, hitting someone is wrong.” “You’re a bright student, aren’t you? Why be so impulsive?” A cold dread settled in my heart. It was the same old story. This kind of spineless mediation, where they just sweep things under the rug and side with the troublemaker, without bothering to find out what really happened. “Officer, there are cameras in the library,” I repeated, clinging to my last hope. Officer Miller sighed. “I already checked. Your spot is a blind spot, nothing was caught.” My heart sank. How could that be such a coincidence? First the cameras in my neighborhood, now even the library cameras? Brittany’s eyes flickered with a hint of triumph when she heard that. She cried even harder. “Officer, my head really hurts, I need to go to the hospital…” “If this injury affects my grad school applications, she has to take full responsibility!” Officer Miller was clearly fed up with her tears. He waved his hand. “Alright, go to the campus clinic for now.” “As for you, Chloe, what’s your name and department? You’ll need to come with us to file a report. The university will handle this seriously.” I gave him my name and department: Chloe, PhD candidate, Life Sciences Department. When I said “PhD candidate,” Brittany and Courtney’s expressions noticeably stiffened. Officer Miller also paused, pushing up his glasses and looking at me again. “You’re… a PhD student?” “Yes.” His attitude seemed to shift subtly, but ultimately he maintained his official tone. “Still, hitting someone requires disciplinary action. Please come with us.” I was led to another office to give a detailed account of what happened. Brittany, meanwhile, was dramatically “fainting” her way to the campus clinic, supported by Courtney.
By the time I finished giving my statement, it was already dark. I dragged my exhausted body back to the lab. Professor Thompson, my advisor, was still waiting for me. Seeing my haggard face and the uncleaned coffee stains, he frowned. “Chloe, what happened?” I recounted everything that had happened at the library, from start to finish. Professor Thompson’s face darkened as he listened. He paced silently in his office. The lab was eerily quiet, save for the low hum of the instruments. After a long while, he stopped and looked at me. “The samples are ruined?” I nodded, my voice hoarse. “They were soaked. Probably gone.” Those were experimental samples I’d been preparing for three weeks, for a critical national research project. Now, everything would have to start from scratch. Professor Thompson sighed heavily and patted my shoulder. “At least you’re okay. Samples can be remade, we’ll make up the time. But this, this cannot stand.” I looked at my advisor’s determined gaze, my nose stung, and I almost cried again. “Professor, campus security said that spot was a blind spot for the cameras.” “Blind spot?” Professor Thompson scoffed. “That grad study area has the best spots in the entire library, top-notch views and light. The university wouldn’t install cameras there? They’re trying to fool us.” My heart skipped a beat. “Professor, are you saying…?” “Don’t worry about it, I’ll handle this.” Professor Thompson picked up his phone. “You go home, get some rest, and clear your head. Remember, we researchers don’t look for trouble, but we never back down from it.” The next day, I received a call from Mr. Harrison, my academic counselor, asking me to come to the department office. In the office, besides Mr. Harrison and me, were Brittany and her counselor, Ms. Hayes. Brittany had a huge bandage on her forehead, and her face was pale. When she saw me, she immediately cowered behind Ms. Hayes, like a frightened deer. Ms. Hayes, a shrewd-looking young woman, instantly shielded her, glaring at me. “Chloe, is it? Is this how you act as an older student? Causing a student in my department to suffer a mild concussion over a study spot? Do you have any sense of responsibility?” I looked at her calmly and asked, “Excuse me, has the concussion diagnosis report been issued yet?” The woman choked for a moment, then retorted forcefully, “The doctor said she needs to stay for observation! This is the consequence of your violent behavior!” My counselor, Mr. Harrison, a mild-mannered middle-aged man, quickly tried to smooth things over. “Ms. Hayes, please don’t get agitated. Chloe didn’t do it on purpose, there must be a misunderstanding here.” “Misunderstanding? Is the injury on my student’s head a misunderstanding?” Ms. Hayes pressed on, “Our student, Brittany, is an excellent student, a top candidate for grad school this year.” “Now, after this incident, she’s suffered immense emotional trauma, and her study progress will be affected. Who will bear this responsibility?” She turned to me, delivering an ultimatum. “This matter is non-negotiable!” “Either you publicly apologize to Brittany and compensate her for all medical expenses, nutritional costs, and emotional distress, totaling twenty thousand dollars.” “Or, we will report this to the university and you’ll receive a major disciplinary action! You choose!” I almost laughed from sheer indignation. What a masterful act of twisting facts! Before I could speak, Mr. Harrison frowned. “Ms. Hayes, twenty thousand dollars? Isn’t that a bit…” “Too much? I don’t think so at all!” Ms. Hayes cut him off. “So what if she’s a PhD student? Does that give PhD students the right to bully our undergraduates?” “I’m telling you, if this isn’t resolved today, we’re not dropping it!” Brittany, hiding behind her counselor, started to sob on cue, her shoulders shaking, looking utterly pitiful. Watching this teacher and student duo perform their coordinated act, the anger inside me flared up again. Just then, the office door was pushed open. My advisor, Professor Thompson, walked in. Behind him were Officer Miller from campus security and a middle-aged man I didn’t recognize. Professor Thompson’s face was grim. He didn’t even glance at the other two, walking straight to me. “Chloe, come on. We have something to see.” He took my arm and started to lead me out. As we passed Ms. Hayes, he coldly dropped a line. “Ms. Hayes, isn’t it? I hope you’ll still be able to sound so self-righteous in a moment.” We all went to the campus security’s monitoring room. The middle-aged man, who turned out to be Mr. Jones, the Director of Information Center, skillfully operated the computer, bringing up a screen. It was footage of that exact corner of the library from yesterday. The video showed me leaving my spot. A few minutes later, Brittany walked over, unhesitatingly sweeping my books and materials onto the floor, then casually taking my seat. Then, I returned, and we began to argue. The footage clearly recorded how she provoked me with her arrogant tone, how she picked up the coffee and splashed it onto my face, how she ripped my textbook page by page… Every detail was crystal clear, undeniable. Officer Miller stood to the side, cold sweat beading on his forehead, his face paler than paper. “P-Professor Thompson, this… how did this…” Professor Thompson snorted. “How did we get this angle of the camera, is that it?” The truth was, the camera in that area did exist, but Officer Miller had deliberately claimed it was a “blind spot” and deleted the recording to avoid trouble. Professor Thompson had recovered the video through Mr. Jones, the Director of Information Center, from a server backup or with higher access privileges. Officer Miller’s legs buckled, and he nearly fell. Ms. Hayes and Brittany were also called into the monitoring room. When the full video played on the large screen, Brittany’s face drained of all color, turning ashen.
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