𝐓𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐬

|8|FLASH BACKS|

The most painful part was that I didn't know if she was dead or alive. Should I keep hoping? Or should I give up and accept reality?

❦︎

Dedicated to WemsEdema ♥️.

°°°°°

~[VICTORIA]~

The week went by smoothly. Asides the occasional glares and scowls I got from Jason, I'd declare the week a good one.

My first week at SH was not half as bad I thought it would be. I had imagined walking down the hallway, and people would throw tomatoes at me, screaming at me to go back to SLI. But so far, it was Jason that clearly didn't like me, so I was going to stay off his path, avoid him as much as I could. Other students still threw stink eyes my way every now and then, but they hadn't gathered the courage to openly say anything to me.

I paused the replay of the week that was rolling in my mind. It was Saturday and I was going to Netflix and chill, I decided that I deserved the luxury.

So I snuggled beneath my blue and white striped duvet, my popcorn to my left and my laptop over my lap.

For a moment, I raised my eyes to appreciate my room. It was the dream room I always wanted.

The walls were a blue-purple ombre with glittery silver stars scattered randomly all over them to imitate the image of the night sky. All the furnite were baby blue, my vanity was directly opposite my bed, leaning against the opposite wall, over it was hung my 54-inch TV. A full length mirror dominated half of the wall to my left, and my study desk was against the wall on my right, with bookshelves on either of it. The pot plants in some sections of the shelves added a touch of nature to the room.

I internally decided that I would put up posters of Burna boy and my basketball icons sometime. And add a couch too.

“Baby?” Dad called, knocking on my door. “Are you decent? I'm coming in.”

I blinked, looked over at the door, "Come in, I'm dressed."

The door creaked open and dad walked in slowly, a soft smile on his lips.

“How are you?” he asked, dragging the chair in front of my reading desk and placing it beside my bed. He sat on it, hoisted his elbows on his knees so that we were face to face.

“I'm fine.” I shrugged.

“No,” he moved closer, taking my hand in his. “How are you?... how are you handling these past…events?”

“Really, Dad, I'm okay.” I didn’t truly believe that. Guilt still lived in my chest, it had mounted its residence in my mind and it was not going anywhere anytime soon.

He sighed, resting his forehead of our intertwined hands. “Look, Vicky,” he looked at me again, eye to eye. “I know this past two months have not been easy for you. With your mother’s death…” he closed his eyes, heaving a heavy sigh. “Just know you can talk to me, okay? As a father, as a friend. I'm here for you, you hear me?”

I nodded. “I know that, Dad.”

He smiled and pecked the back of my hand. “I’ll be in my room if you need me.” he made to get up but I grabbed his wrist. A question had bugged my mind throughout the week.

“Dad, wait.”

He sat, a frown appearing on his face. “What is it?”

“What were you doing in my school on Wednesday?” I inquired. “There was really nothing you needed to do. And at this rate you’ll give our little secret away.”