WebNovels

The Truth is Distorted

Doaa_23
--
chs / week
--
NOT RATINGS
1.5k
Views
Synopsis
Since Beatrice’s arrival at the university on her scholarship, she has become the center of attention: her intelligence, gentle demeanor, and kindness captured hearts… making her beloved among her peers. But this radiance didn’t sit well with one person. Iris, the brilliant young man who sees himself as the center of the universe, couldn’t stand the idea of another star shining. His selfishness and love of the spotlight drove him to stage petty provocations, then launch a subtle campaign to tarnish her reputation with cunning, planting doubts about her in the minds of others. But strangely, Beatrice is not only facing Iris’s schemes… she’s also experiencing things that defy explanation: clock hands spinning backward then snapping back in the blink of an eye, her hands suddenly changing color, and Iris’s face sometimes appearing without features. Are these merely illusions brought on by extreme stress, or is reality beginning to reveal another face? Step by step, the conspiracy intertwines with the hallucinations, and truth begins to blur with illusion.
VIEW MORE

Chapter 1 - Chapter 1

– Beatrice Pilar's Room

In the corner of the small room, where the light softly streamed from the lamp, Beatrice sat at her white desk, her blue notebook open before her.

She picked up her pen, sighed quietly, and began to write:

> "A week has passed since I arrived in Valdrel. Classes only started five days ago, and I must work hard to excel and never neglect my studies… my entire future depends on it."

> "When I turned eighteen, I no longer had the right to return to the orphanage; I had to live alone and take responsibility for myself. It wasn't a choice—it was a reality I had to adapt to."

> "Yes, I will work hard. Fortunately, this scholarship covers housing and a monthly allowance. It's an excellent opportunity."

> "All I want is a simple, decent life; a warm apartment, filling meals, and an honest job I can be proud of—one that preserves my dignity."

> "But… I'm afraid the allowance might not be enough. What if the money runs out? Should I start working? Yes, I think a part-time job is a good idea! Maybe at a café? That sounds suitable… Tomorrow I'll start looking for a job in one of the cafés, that way I can manage things better."

> "I've met a lovely girl in the nursing college, a polite and cheerful classmate who makes me laugh a lot. I feel we'll become friends… in fact, I think we already have, since we've started going out together and spending time outside the lecture halls."

> "But… there's a constant fear following me. I'm afraid of failing my studies, of losing this scholarship, of being forced to return to my country and wander the streets. I fear the cold, hunger, and loneliness… and what terrifies me most is becoming an easy target for anyone who might think of harming me, for my country is full of crime."

Beatrice paused, her face paling slightly. She shook her head firmly, rubbed her face with her hands, and told herself with determination:

> "No, Beatrice… don't think that way. You will succeed, you will excel, and you will reach your goal… you are strong, and you will make it."

She wrote the last line:

> "But sometimes I feel a pain in my head, like a headache—it comes and goes. Strangely, when I take a painkiller, it never helps; instead, it disappears on its own after a few minutes… I don't know exactly what's wrong with me."

Closing her notebook, she rose from her chair and walked to her small bed, throwing herself onto it. She placed her right hand over her left on her stomach, gazing at the ceiling with a faint smile as she said:

> "The room is small… but it's comfortable and quiet. I think it will be perfect for studying."

She pulled the blanket over herself and got ready to sleep, whispering:

> "Tomorrow I'll start looking for a café job… I must wake up early, as always. But for now… I feel so sleepy…"

Her eyes slowly closed, and she soon drifted into a deep sleep, her features reflecting a mix of exhaustion and serenity.

Beatrice's room was simple but neatly arranged; its walls painted a light gray, with a small white desk and chair in one corner, and on the opposite wall, a wooden wardrobe holding her clothes and shoes. The bed, set against the wall, was covered with a light white woolen blanket, and in the center of the wall hung a medium-sized mirror with a simple silver frame.