01- starman

93 2 0
                                    

TW: mentions of physical abuse

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

TW: mentions of physical abuse

READ WITH CAUTION

READ WITH CAUTION

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

✧・゚: *✧・゚:*


HEAVY SCREAMS COULD BE HEARD outside the wooden door separating Margot from her parents' continuous arguing. The shatter of glass echoed in her ears as she immediately opened the door, met with a grotesque sight.

"Mum!" she yelled, rushing over to her mother, whose once blonde hair was now grey with age.

"I'm fine Margot, go back to your bedroom." she insisted, using her hands to guide the blonde teenager back to her bedroom.

"No! I won't leave you here!" she screamed back, defiant of her mother's wishes.

"Go upstairs, now." she finally spoke back, her tone laced with something Margot had never heard before. Margot looked back as she saw her father stood over her mother, her eyes brimming with tears. Slamming the door shut, she rummaged through her bedroom, looking for one specific item. Underneath all the piles of sketches, clothes and books Margot had finally found what she was looking for, her cassette tapes.

Thankfully, her mother was a muggle and she had gifted Margot at a very young age some of her personal belongings, which included many cassette tapes. It was a dark grey in colour, adorned with childish and colourful stickers of animals and flowers— which in Margot's opinion, showed her mothers' personality, when she was able to get away from her husband. Fumbling against the many wires, she finally clicked play.

The soft hum of music filled the dark and dingy bedroom, leading Margot to another world, where there was no angry father, no fearful mother or no boisterous siblings. Margot would say she adores music. It told her a story, an enchanting and compelling story, no matter what the song was. It told her tales; tales of rock stars and hippie artists expressing their love for what they did, something Margot wishes she was able to do. The reverberating strum of the electric guitars rang a chord through her enigmatic brain— which made her interpret music in a completely different way. Her hazel eyes flitted towards the half-open window as the sun's peachy colours began to blend into darker shades as the teenager fell asleep to the muffled voice of David Bowie.

You've reached the end of published parts.

⏰ Last updated: Aug 15, 2022 ⏰

Add this story to your Library to get notified about new parts!

AUGUST, r.bWhere stories live. Discover now