𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐈𝐧 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐬

17| Photo Booth

TW: ABUSE‼️.

Morona McCallister

I'm walking to the Crestmore early.

I slept in my uniform and couldn't wash it because it was dirty.

So I have to explain to my manager why I wasn't wearing it.

Instead, I'm wearing a tight, black turtleneck shirt, a brown checkered skirt, black tights, and boots.

I had my coat on, but I was still feeling cold.

I stumbled upon the clothes in the wardrobes, and whoever left them there definitely has great taste.

I couldn't help but wonder, could it be his ex or maybe his sister?

Suddenly, I bumped into someone very hard.

My gaze fixated on her, and my eyes widened in disbelief.

Fear gripped my heart, tightening its hold with each beat.

The weight of her presence bore down on me, as if the air itself had turned heavy and suffocating.

It was a moment frozen in time, where the past and present collided, unleashing a storm of memories and unanswered questions.

I couldn't help but trace the contours of her face, etching every detail into my mind.

Her long brown curly hair, blue eyes, plump lips, once familiar, now felt foreign and distant.

My skin grew pale, the memories of abuse and her courageous escape flooded my mind, leaving me tangled in a web of conflicting emotions.

"Oh? Morona," she chuckled, a mischievous glimmer in her eyes.

I should've been warned by the, 'I saw your mother.'

"Why are you here?" I demanded, towering over her.

As the intensity of the moment grew, I swiftly guided her into an alleyway, my grip firm yet controlled.

My turn.

Pressing her head against the wall, I sought answers in her eyes.

"You're still the same old you. You haven't changed at all," she laughed.

I released my grip on her head, then slammed it on the wall.