09/23/2025
The morning at Westbrook High School started just like any other day: the first bell rang through the long hallways, laughter and conversation echoed off the locker walls. La Kea, the quiet daughter of Ronda Rousey, clutched her books tightly to her chest as she moved through the crowd, her dark hair carefully tied in a ponytail, lost in thoughts about history essays and secret drawings. She was delicate and withdrawn, preferring the silence of the library to the chaos of the halls, avoiding conflicts with her head down and soft words—until a sudden silence swept over like a wave. At the end of the hall appeared Trevor Hayes, taller than the others, his broad shoulders marked by weights and arrogance, his followers moving like shadows around him. The students instinctively stepped aside, turning their faces to the lockers as Trevor fixed his gaze on La Kea. His cruel grin widened. “Well, well, who do we have here?” he sneered, then shoved her sideways with his shoulder. The books scattered on the shiny floor, his companions’ laughter sharp and merciless. La Kea fell to her knees, trembling hands reaching for the scattered pages, but Trevor pressed a notebook under his shoe, leaning closer with a mocking whisper. He yanked her backpack, everything spilled out—a photo with Ronda, drawings he trampled to make them ridiculous. He grabbed her collar, pushed her against the locker, the smack echoed, then his hand squeezed her throat as she gasped for air, while the crowd almost motionlessly filmed the whole scene. Black spots danced in her vision, her knees began to weaken, Trevor’s triumph grew darker—until the sound of heavy, decisive footsteps was heard, the doors opened…👇🏼 Read more in Comment or Most relevant -> All comments 👇
