10. 𝙄'𝙢 𝙩𝙞𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙄'𝙢 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙘𝙧𝙖𝙯𝙮

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𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘵

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𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘵.







DALLY COULDN'T PICK ME UP TODAY because buck took the t-bird to buy some more liquor, i ended up walking home from school, i haven't walked home by myself since noel got the chicken pox and was out for the whole school week.

noel already moved out, the for sale sign that was on her house felt so weird to look at, it's like she was never there.

i remember the time i slept over her house last summer, her house was a mess and so was her mom. noel always looked ashamed of her household whenever someone would come to visit, even me. she would tell me about how she always dreamt of the perfect life when she was a little girl, sitting by her window in the night when her parents were cracked out in their living room.

noel opened her sketch book, they were a bunch of drawings she made during her tween years.

"i used to love drawing," she smiled as she flipped the pages, "they always took me to a whole different universe."

"what kind of universe?" i asked, observing the detailed sketches.

"i don't know, a life where my parents weren't doing shit like this." noel shrugged.

we went quiet after she said that, i just stared blankly at this eye she drew that had tears in it, dropping down towards the bottom of the page.

"what's this one?" my finger pointed at the eye.

"i drew that when i was 11," noel said without cracking a smile, "my dad had just hit me before i drew it."

"you know, if it gets really bad, you're always welcome to stay at my house." i told her.

"i know but that night you and your dad took a trip to minnesota to visit your aunt." noel says.

my expression dropped, "oh i'm sorry, noel."

i hugged her after hearing about it, we laid on her bed and she just cried to me about how she wants to get out. noel didn't care about the chances of being homeless after high school, she just wanted a way to escape her house and escape her parents' rage. those were the times i felt sorry for noel because she never had a place to call home or parents to say i love you to, every night before bed.







𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐑𝐘 :: 𝘥𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘯Where stories live. Discover now