GOD'S FAVOURITE. 𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐢𝐱𝐭𝐲-𝐓𝐰𝐨

Ǵ̸̢͙̺̿͠O̴͇͉͆̓D̴̢̫͇͑̈́̚'̴̡̞̈́̒̈́͜Ś̵̻̦̪͠͠ F̵̦͉͓͑̿͑A̵͚̻͑͛̚V̸̢̺̺̔̕͝O̵̠͍̟̽͌͠U̸̢͍̼̔́̈́R̴͓͓̐͝I̵̫͍͔͑̓̽-

!! E̴͚͓̞̽͊̒R̴̼̫͋̓͝R̵͚͚̠̈́̈́O̸̡̻̞̓͝͠R̸͙̪̙̓̔̚.̵̠̞̐̀͝ !!!

ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗ ᵂᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ⠘ ᴹᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵒᶠ ᵇˡᵒᵒᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵛⁱᵒˡᵉⁿᶜᵉ⸴ ᵖˢʸᶜʰⁱᶜᵃˡ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵐᵒᵗⁱᵒⁿᵃˡ ᵃᵇᵘˢᵉ⸴ ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵒᶠ ᶠᵒʳᶜᵉᵈ ᵖʳᵒˢᵗⁱᵗᵘᵗⁱᵒⁿ⸴  ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵒᶠ ᵃᵐᵖᵘᵗᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧ ᴮʳⁱᵉᶠ ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵃⁿⁿⁱᵇᵃˡⁱˢᵐ, ᴴᵘᵐᵃⁿ ᶜᵒⁿˢᵘᵐᵖᵗⁱᵒⁿ? ᶠᵒʳᶜᵉᵈ ᶜᵒⁿᶠⁱⁿᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗ. ᴷⁱⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ˡᵒʳᵉ ᶜʰᵃᵖᵗᵉʳ‧ ᴾˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ ᵐᵒᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ʷⁱˢʰ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵃᵈ‧ 

ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵈᵃᵖᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ᴰᵉᵃᵗʰ ᴺᵒᵗᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵃʳᵈˡʸ ᵃⁿʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᵇᵒᵒᵏ ⁱˢ ᶜᵃⁿⁿᵒⁿ ⁽ᵗʳʸⁿᵃ ᵇˡᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃˡˡ ᵃʷᵃʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ᶠʳᵉˢʰ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ‧⁾ ᶜᵉʳᵗᵃⁱⁿ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍˢ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᔆʰⁿⁱᵍʰᵃᵐⁱ ᵐᵃʸ ᵈⁱᶠᶠᵉʳ⸴ ᵉˢᵖᵉᶜⁱᵃˡˡʸ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵈʳᵒᵖᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵒᵏ ᵃᵗ ʳᵃⁿᵈᵒᵐ‧ ᴵ ᵃᵖᵒˡᵒᵍⁱˢᵉ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘʳ ⁿᵒᵗ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ᵗʸᵖᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʳᵉᵗᵉˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ⸴ ᴵ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵃ ᶠᵉʷ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ᵉⁿʲᵒʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᵗᵘʳⁿ ᵒⁿ ⁱᵗ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵃ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ!

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(𝑃𝑙𝑎𝑦 "𝐼 𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑 𝑜𝑛 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑒" 𝑏𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑠𝑝𝑜𝑡𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑎 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒!)

Two weeks. That's how much time had passed since she had been locked away like a feral canary in the hopes of domestication, and her body had felt every moment of it. Waking or otherwise.

A poorly structured shed that had been present on the property long before they had bought it was cramping in its already confined space, with only the hellish cage and a few measly shelves for companionship. She could argue that her Father was reaping what he sowed for putting off the spring cleaning and his abhorrent disregard and ill preparation were showcased to her on a silver platter while being stuck amidst it all. 

To his credit, he had done his best to improve it over the coming days, unwilling to forfeit anything from her bedroom as if to separate the two worlds and choosing to buy lacklustre pillow sets and useless stuffed toys to provide a source of comfort. Still, no amount of improvement could make it a habitable space for human beings and the window he had carved in, aligned with tacky pink curtains and dust-covered frills, felt like it was a cursed gift, often mocking her from the corner of her sight when she counted the stars at night.

The cage was clean enough and if he had been the one to construct it, then Arisa had narrowed out just about any form of destruction a little girl could instil, She had kicked at and clawed at the confines till her skin peeled off in clumps from the soles of her feet, caused her fingernails to split in half from tearing into the nailed wood and sacrificed hours of rest to bash her bruised body at unmoveable walls...Yet all her efforts were never enough even to impact the glass, the three holes for fresh air were too narrow to get anything but a pinkie finger through and the only items by her side were sets of classic board games, her distraction while he arranged time off work, as he had put it.