𝗨𝗡𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗬 𝗕𝗨𝗟𝗟𝗬

009. 𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗖𝗞𝗬 𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗖𝗞𝗬

WARNING: VIOLENCE, BULLYING, SWEARING, ETC.

She arrived home.

Her heart rapidly thumping, sweat built upon her forehead, and just on the brink of weeping, she carefully subsisted, gently loosening one strap of her bag in the process of putting off her shoe, the approaching steps of her mother invaded her vision and she instantly glanced up, softly frowning to seem like a smile, it probably made her look weakened. The mother contemplated her daughter's features, opting to speak.

"Where have you been?" She sternly inquired, the young girl pulled one of her eyebrows up, squeezing her lips, acknowledging with an averted gaze. "Nowhere, I just ran back from school."

The mother did not seem satisfied, wordlessly urging another proper explanation from the girl, her arms folded across her chest, lip pinched upwards as if to say, 'I disagree.'

"Where do you think I might have gone, Mom? I just came back from school, I went nowhere else." She defended, firmly staring at her mother, "Am I that untrustworthy?"

"Watch your mouth, I never said that."

The young female did not utter anything more, tossing her gaze elsewhere, rapidly blinking and mouth slightly open, craving to say something but shortly decided against it, observing the woman one last time before making her way to her room.

Both are unable to convey much or say their true intentions and the gap between them appears more noticeable. Saliently on her part, her avoidant nature in play.

Sleep was reluctant to welcome herself on that night, she denied consuming any food, pretended to have fallen asleep, tossing and turning, wild thoughts rampant, and everything else just unimportant, scrappy, disorganized, her device laid under her blankets, vibrating beside her, calling out to her, letting her be aware that someone was attempting to reach her, somebody who would raise a question about the incident she underwent that morning.

Her room was non-illuminated, corners of her room pitch black to discern, her mind faking images, falsifying shreds of evidence of someone sitting there, watching her, studying her, she quickly got up with a huff, sighing at her phone, passively saw it shaking emitting a low tune, she knew who was calling, she knew he was calling to make sure she was still under his control, under his influence. She softly grimaced, stretching her arm and taking it in her hold, mildly hunched in her position, noting the screen with an indifferent gaze.

'Pick up the call.' it reads, his message. For some reason, peace had decided not to reside with her the entire day, she was anxiously overthinking, thinking to a concerning degree even she found herself asking, 'Is she okay?' why was she making way for such... dark thoughts?

Another sound pops from her phone.

'I said, pick the stupid phone, you idiot!'

Unwillingly, she scrupulously typed in rehearsed sentences, double-checking to see if there was anything to mistake, to take it the way other than what she intended. It sent, then, came an instant response.

'I don't care.'

'I'm saying one last time, pick up the call.'

Her eyebrows slightly rose, her breath long held inside her lungs and subconsciously gripping the object tighter, her disheveled hairs sticking out, eyes trained upon the brightened screen, then a buzzing sound lowly echoed in the quiet room, she gulped her unsettled notions eyeing it for a few seconds before hesitantly touching the accept button.

Slowly nearing it to her ear, she heeded for any tell-tale signs of anything, the connection was quiet, the almost inaudible breathing of his initially bound to go unheard. She waited for him to speak, hoping less talking would save her from some unneeded trouble.