Ticci Toby x Reader

Chapter Two

I had secured my boots, as they were preferable for the journey. They had reliable grips, and actually fit correctly without fault. And hello? They actually looked decent- not decorated with dried mud, for once. I triple checked that I had my house key, and checked the battery percentage of my phone.

72%.

Huh, should be fine. I ensured that my headphones fit comfortably, and lowered the volume before playing anything. I flicked through my playlist, which was conveniently titled "Bada$$". Oh, I wonder how that got there. Jeez, that stuff gives me serotonin- perfect for situations like this. I then clicked on (F/S) and shoved my phone inside the pocket of my hoodie, rather aggressively if you ask me.

I had no idea where I was actually going to go. As much as I wanted to, a journey through the forest would be full of risks that I would never be prepared to take. The safest option was probably to venture out to the park. There would most likely be at least somebody else, maybe a dog-walker, maybe a few other teens hanging around.

There was this old lady that I'd seen there before. She'd visited since I was a child. I could remember her petite frame, and how the scarce light would reflect on her pale, almost translucent skin. From what I can remember, she had dyed black hair, the silvery white roots creeping into sight. It was usually curled and seemed to defy gravity in all the right places, reaching no further than her ears. I can remember now... there were usually a few strands hanging past her eyes. I could never remember what colour they were... they always looked glazed over and dull, like a slowly burning out match. Something distinct about her, was her clothing choice. No matter what time of day it was, or the weather, she always wore the same dress. It was a vintage pink colour, and the layered fabric was coated in flower petals and a dusted shimmer. Though it was dull and worn, it seemed to fit her perfectly. The rose and daisy petals sat neatly on her wrinkled skin, the skirt flowing down to the deep maroon slippers that she wore.

The last time that I spoke to her was probably when I was 14 or 15; around 1 and a half years ago. I can vividly remember being told not to go outside alone at night. From that point, I had only been able to see the woman from the 'comfort' of my home. If I was lucky, I sometimes saw her walk past my house.

I finally snapped back to reality, after daydreaming for what felt like an hour. I checked the time on my phone.

7:32pm.

Okay, apparently one minute passed. I thoughtlessly released a heavy sigh, as I clicked the front door open. I was instantly greeted with a smack to the face by the wind, though it didn't bother me. I felt content, but why did it feel so wrong?