GOT A SWEET FACE ˚ ✰
BUT I ONLY PLAY VILLAINFALL OR FLY.
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3 AUGUST, 2004
3:24 PM
— THE PRESENTBlood had been her lover, her euphoria, her oblivion. It had kissed her face senseless, left behind love marks the color of plums, and dripped down her neck in intricate lines like veins.
Her chin had busted open, her face scraped from the alley floor. Her index finger was broke and the knees of her jeans had torn from the tackle she'd gotten, or had he done that one— she didn't remember.
Maya was silent, watchful and wary of the obscene silence in the chilled room. She moves her left leg, winces at the pain that shoots up her foot.
She was sitting in a metal chair, freezing under fluorescent lights. The knuckles of her hands have bruised and her fingernails are encrusted with dirt.
She was in an interrogation room. Alone.
Maya knows of the double-sided mirror, she's aware of the two men behind it analyzing her. Still, she says nothing.
The mirror reflects what she doesn't want to see. With wet, matted hair and a busted lip, with dirty water sliding down her nose and dripping off her chin, she looks away.
"Here." The door slams open, banging against the wall before swinging shut. A man walks in, tossing a clear bag onto the table.
Maya's eyes it, pokes it with a crimson knuckle before looking back at him. "You can only keep me here for twenty four hours until you have to let me go-free of any charges." Her voice is soft, quiet.
"Actually," he sits across from her, folding his arms. "We can keep you here longer-72 hours."
She goes quite after that.
They had no idea what they'd gotten into, but she did.
Although they were the ones that weren't handcuffed to the metal table, she was the one in charge.
It felt like falling.
▃ view #2 ▃
3 AUGUST, 2004
2:30 PM
— THE PAST
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