𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗮 𝗯𝘂𝗴 ❦

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𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙚𝙣
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‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾♫ death of the phone call - huli ka ♫☽༓・*˚⁺

‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾♫ death of the phone call - huli ka ♫☽༓・*˚⁺

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       Rose-Mary sat on her bed, hesitantly contemplating her next move. Should she tell anyone else? Should she try to find a medically-gifted student? She pondered telling Gordie, as he would probably know all about prenatal vitamins and treatments.

The girl looked up from her lap, a small knickknack on her shelf catching her eye. She walked to it, gently picking it up in her soft hands. It was a teddy bear. She thought back to when she had gotten that small bear; her dad had won it for her at a carnival when she was a small, toothless eight-year-old. To Rose-Mary, that moment felt like so long ago. But, it really wasn't; it was only nine years. Nine years ago, Rose-Mary was a happy little girl with no issues in the world. Things had definitely changed.

A small tear rolled down her cheek, landing on the plush toy in her hands. She just wanted to go back to that time. The time before relationships, before real-world problems, before Newham. A small trickle quickly turned to a larger sob, and the blonde found herself laying back on her bed, tightly cuddling the warm and familiar bear.

A light knock came from outside her door.

"Roe?" A soft voice asked, who she recognized to be Elle.

Rose-Mary didn't even try to hide her tears. It was far too late for that. "Come in."

Elle slowly pushed open the wooden door, revealing the sobbing mess of a girl. The little mascara she had on was now spread down her face, forming a raccoon-like look.

"Oh, sweetie," Elle muttered as she approached Rose-Mary, before sitting down next to her and patting her shoulder. This action comforted Rose-Mary, as it felt like something her mother used to do. "I'm not going to ask you what's wrong, because with all of this happening, it's probably a mix of a lot of things."

Rose-Mary chuckled lightly. Elle was definitely right about that. "Look, Elle. I need to tell you something."

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Greg Dewey was awoken from his sleep when a large, sitting figure startled him. Clark Beecher simply stared at him as he slept, waiting for a moment to pounce.

Greg quickly became defensive. "You're not supposed to be in here."

Clark smirked, "I was waiting for you to wake up, because...you know...seemed weird to beat on someone while they're sleeping." Clark stood up and aggressively approached the prisoner. He grabbed him and pushed him against the cellar wall.

so high ❦ harry binghamWhere stories live. Discover now