for him | skephalo, fluff

the first firework

TW: MURDER

~Scarlett's POV~

December 31st. I never had good memories of New Years. I remember "celebrating" when I was 11. I was with my father on his deathbed the day before. I held his hand tight, pleading for his life. It meant nothing though. My begs did nothing. I watch the clock, 11:58 P.M. 2 minutes until the next year. As the clock ticks and another minute passes, as I take my eyes off of him, I lose him. The last second he had on Earth, I looked away. The flatline's beeps ring through my ears as I lose my father.

Boom.

The first firework bursts.

———

When I turned 13, my mother had remarried to a total douche. He was abusive to the both of us. Even through the death of my father and the torture my stepdad had put my mother and I through, we still had each other. It was painful seeing her suffering so much.

On my 16th birthday, my stepfather died of overdose. It was freeing but torturous. My sweet 16 turned to a day of crying.

Every since then, I've been trying my best to pick myself up. I've gotten a boyfriend, I've gotten a part time job, a car, and straight A's at school. I've never been happier since I've met George. He's helped me through everything. Suppling my family with bare necessities we find ourself unable to equip, George was the kindest soul I've met. I loved him and looked forward to our future with him.

But today, I let myself mope around. New Years and my birthday were days of taking time for myself. As I stayed in bed until 3 P.M, I hear my phone going off. Reluctantly, I force myself out of bed to check my phone. Notifications left from George.

Bae ^^

Bae ^^
Since it's New Years I was wondering if you and I can maybe stay up together and watch it turn 12

Bae ^^
You can come over if it's ok with you

Bae ^^
btw I also invited Clay if that's ok with you

I smile at the offer but I know I should take the day for rest.

Then again, I loved George and spending time with him would help me go back to seeing New Years as a day of celebration. Without a second thought, I write a response I knew I would regret.

You
haha sure!

———

A few hours pass, the time read 10 P.M. I sat, brushing my hair until it was straight again. After, I pull out clothes from my dresser. I take out a nice outfit to impress George. I grab my car keys from a coat rack near the exit of my house and leave the door, saying my goodbyes to my mother.

As I drive, something in my gut tells me to turn around and go back home. I brush it off. It's some sort of dumb superstition.

I park into George's driveway. George must've heard my car because he opens the door for me. "Scar! You're here!" He pulls me into a hug. I accept it gladly.

Together we enter the mansion to reveal to boys sitting on George's couch, both wearing dark clothes, sloppily eating chips. One is Clay, who was fixated on the TV. The other boy is a boy I've met before but I've only had one interaction with him. It was when he had called me a dumbass, his name was Zak. Zak seemed to be focused on his phone.