text: "You're fat, you know?" It was like a unanimous rendition of those scenes in movies where the audience finds out a shocking truth. Breathing heavily now, I felt all eyes on me as my stomach somersaulted, my ears grew hot, my face paled and my fists clenched. Of course, my defense mechanisms kicked in almost instantaneously, and I looked to my supposed 'best friend' for calvary. Unsurprisingly enough, as I caught a glimpse of her sight, she turned her head away, as if ashamed to be associated with me in any way conceivable. You see, betrayal raises conflicting emotions when experienced. Some are broken by it, others break things, relationships, *people*, in reaction to it. As a bout of confusion washed over me, I felt fueled by both ends of this spectrum. Externally, I performed an act of offhanded nonchalance, but inside, my blood boiled to the point of coagulation. I hadn't missed Diana's initial smirk at the comment. Standing just short of two metres from her, I knew this was Diana's last straw. And by the glint of acute terror that flashed in her pupils following her slip-up, I think she knew it was, too. Of course, this wasn't the first time she had ridiculed the layers of fat visible through my stretched shirt, neither was it the only occasion in which she had willingly dismissed any ties to me. Like at Linda's party, when her mum had made a comment about my choice to take a larger cake slice, and she let out a slight laugh. Or at the public pool during the previous summer, when my sunburned skin augmented my already unappealing appearance, and she likened me to fried bacon. You see, anger is cumulative and can lead to untamed and explosive reactions, causing pain to be incurred. Not before I had growled at the flock of eyes intensely watching my every move, I strode slowly and steadily towards Diana, with every step adding an ounce of confidence to my intent. A host of thick, ugly storm clouds stole the spotlight of the sun as they prepared for their bellowing chorus; a percussion of pattering rain accompanied their entrance. Beautiful, beautiful Diana - like the goddess of the Ephesians - was blindingly fair, and idolised by her peers. Clutching my hands around her delicate neck, I saw the fear in her doe eyes and whispers of desperation departing her plump lips. Defining my grip on her larynx from which her saccharine voice protruded, I saw her rosy cheeks fade to a soft pallor and her fierce character lose its vigour. Diana, wonderful Diana, was beneath me for once, struggling like a lamb to the slaughter as her herd fled. Picking up the distant sound of wailing sirens, I stopped, throwing her limp figure to the ground. I lowered myself to the grass, taking a cross-legged position. It was a matter of time before an enquiry was filed and I would be hated even further. But in the end, was I really to blame? She just kept pushing, and one day I'd fall off that edge. Tough luck.