✰☽ 𝐄𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐦 ☾✰

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 -☾

[As the two of you got into your sleeping bags, you took what Eda said into consideration. You should definitely head home now. Clearly your headache was from over exhausting your brain. You can't run away from your problems anymore.

You took a deep breath, in a better state of mind.

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝, 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐝𝐚𝐲.]

➶-͙˚ ༘✶

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

[F/n] - Fathers name
[M/n] - Mothers name

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐮𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬.

You sigh, the events from yesterday still plaguing your mind, even after you tried to distract yourself.

You sit up and check the time. Its about 6am, you should probably start getting ready.

After putting on your clothes, you quietly stride downstairs. Your footsteps made little to no noise.

You hear your mother conversing on the phone in the kitchen. What is she still doing here?

Her voice, albeit muffled, is still loud enough for you to hear.

"-I'm worried about her,  [F/n]. I don't think this friend is good for her."

You couldn't hear the response of the other person on the phone.

"She's so.. I don't know how to explain it. I just know that something else is going on, whether or not Y/n is aware of it."

She's talking about you? That must mean she's also talking about Ainsley too. I mean, who else would she be taking about? It's not like you have any other friends.

You stay quiet, waiting for her to finish her conversation.

"You have to see it for yourself. I'll have Y/n invite her over or something, I just need you to see how harmful this girl could be."

Your feet felt glued to the step you were on. Your limbs felt stiff, like sticks.

Harmful?

Oh please. What does [M/n] know anyway? she barley knows Ainsley, what gives her the right to talk about her like this?

You scoff to yourself. Your mother could be so one-dimensional sometimes.

Their conversation fizzles out and she finally ends the call.

You quietly step into the kitchen a few moments later, so as to not seem obvious.

"Oh! good morning, Sweet-pea!" Your mother greets you. she was sitting at the dining table. The dining table was barley used considering you usually ate in your room while your mom usually ate at work.

The kitchen felt dull, your mother went through an interior designer phase that made her change all the furniture to various shades of white. It looked like a home magazine, but it didn't feel like a home.