𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 (EDITING)

𝟎𝟒

florence

The dimly lit hallway was silent, save for the faint hum of the overhead lights. Leaning against the cool wall, I fixated on the pulsating screen of my phone, yearning for its familiar buzz signaling her call. The need for reassurance clawed at me, an unrelenting uneasiness settling within, as if the ground beneath might crumble any moment.

Questions swirled like a tempest in my mind, each demanding attention I couldn't afford to spare. I battled to suppress the whirlwind of uncertainty, yet it persisted, an unwelcome visitor overstaying its welcome. The very essence of 'what's going on?' echoed persistently, its echo haunting the recesses of my thoughts.

Exhaustion was my uninvited companion, a persistent shadow that clung mercilessly. Two hours of fitful sleep did little to vanquish the fatigue, only exacerbating the relentless drumming in my temples—a punishing reminder of yesterday's indulgence that now felt more foolish than enjoyable.

In the midst of this disarray, seeking solace seemed futile. I attempted to divert my attention, to bury the disquiet beneath a façade of indifference, but it was a fleeting disguise. The precarious balance of emotions teetered, threatening collapse with each passing moment

Time seemed to stretch endlessly as I stood ensnared by the passage of moments, each ticking second echoing like a resounding gong. It was in this suspended continuum that a gentle yet insistent touch graced my shoulder, a lifeline drawing me back from the labyrinth of my thoughts.

Blinking away the haze that enveloped my vision, I turned to the source of interruption, my features contorted in puzzlement, squinting against the harsh illumination. "Florence," she murmured, her touch persisted, a firmer shake jolting me from the reverie. Blinking repeatedly, I struggled to reorient myself, seeking clarity within the fuzzy contours of the moment. Recognition dawned as if emerging from the mists—Scarlett. A faint smile played on my lips, feeble against the weight of my disquiet. "You've made it," I managed, my voice a mere whisper lost in the ambient din.

"Of course, darling. I rushed the moment I received your urgent message," Scarlett replied, her words punctuated by a tinge of exasperation. "But the traffic, oh, it's an absolute nightmare." A tender smile graced her lips as she extended the steaming cup towards me, a gesture of solace amidst the chaos that engulfed me. "I brought you coffee," she announced softly, her eyes kindling with an unspoken empathy.

"How are you holding up?" I inquired, my voice laden with weariness as I rubbed the corners of my eyes, attempting to dispel the fog that clouded my vision.

A subtle smirk danced across her face, a testament to her seasoned resilience. "I've through this all too may times," she confided, her tone tinged with a hint of irony. "Besides, I've never been one to drink as much." Accepting the offered cup with gratitude, I brought the warmth of the coffee to my lips, feeling its rich aroma envelop my senses. A sigh of contentment escaped me as the comforting heat cascaded down my parched throat.

"So, you want to enlighten me on what's going on?" Scarlett inquired, her gaze a blend of concern and unwavering support. I nodded in acknowledgment, turning to face her, "So basically—" i started "No. You always start a sentence with that, its disturbing. Try something better." Scarlett stopped me, i open my mouth to say something, "Fine." I mumbled, rolling my eyes.

"When I came back from dinner, i did my usual night routine, and i fell asleep, a couple of hours later i woke up and was throwing up like crazy because obviously i had drank alcohol. I was sweating like absolute crazy, so i opened the window in my room and i noticed someone laying down on the ground with an Axe stabbed inside of them. At that time i didn't know if the person was just sleeping or not, so i went outside just to check. Turns out it was a girl... A girl had an Axe stabbed inside of her stomach, blood pouring out of her and she looked dead."