It has been about a week since you were released from the hospital with a relatively clean bill of health, however, you still felt like a pile of crap and then some.
Memories from that night had gradually flooded back to you, intruding and closing in on the small bit of the blissful nothingness from back in the hospital when it was just you, Robert, and Vincent's plushie in that room. The more you recalled the more upset you were, the more traumatized, disturbed you felt, and the more you began to loathe Brandon all over again.
It must of been a pretty slow week for the newspapers and television media networks, because for both have been harping on and on about Brandon and friend's disappearances.. nearly all day, every day. It didn't bother you too much at first because you could simply shut the TV off or change channels, ignore the stacks of newspaper or Missing persons fliers over by the counter at the convenience stores with Brandon's picture on it, and just read a book or listen to some music to temporarily escape reality and into a state of mind where it was just you and/or the stories and pictures painted into your mindscape.
It was only when police officers and police detectives started knocking at your door did it all really start to grate on your nerves. These people sat down with you in your kitchen at the table and questioned you over the details of what went down that night, the police officer's questions were simple and said officer politely accepted what you had to say and then left you to your peace. The police detectives were a bit less forgiving, often questioning you on details that were to you, murky or unknown at best and noting your hesitation or nervousness. Making the whole thing feel something akin to a aggressive interrogation session more than a simple questioning.
Just knowing that you were considered a possible suspect in Brandon's disappearance alone made you feel like the world was out to get you, and for seemingly no reason at all... you were still mentally reeling from it all happening and the people around except (F/n) and Robert were seemingly making it worse for you.
On the following Thursday you came into work on an ok note, however the day goes on with the occasional co-worker, ones who knew about Brandon and his case or so they said and just kinda kept bugging you about the whole situation.
Irritated you would walk away from your co-worker without saying a word to them wondering why they were still fawning and fretting over him, even with the news reporting the bit of detail where Brandon was trying to sexually assault you..did these people forget that? you were a victim in this too! why would you have any respect for someone after they did something like that?
You could not understand people sometimes.
your ill feelings and temper came to a head when that one of bitchy Brandon fangirl from Brandon's circle came to your cafe to have a coffee and Salad, said girl saw you and instead of just keeping her mouth shut and taking her order from you she glared at you before making a snide comment warping and twisting the sexual assault issue into something that made it seem it it was your fault, that you were asking for it.
that was it.
It was in that brief moment that the conscience of your next actions was rendered non-existent by a fit of flash-fire fury. With the coffee in hand you tore the lid off and chucked the cup along with it's scalding hot liquid content at the offending female. A shrill, agonizing scream ripped from her throat and seemingly resonated though the entire front of the store as the liquid and cup came into contact upside her head.
"Get. Out."
These words came out of your mouth in an snarl as you started at the girl's form writhing on the floor crying and recoiling in utter shock and pain of the burns her skin was experiencing, your eyes were sharp and shining dangerously, teeth barred and almost grinding together.
"GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT!!" you bellowed angrily at the girl who then scrambled off the floor and out the door. After that It was just you standing their breathing heavily while watching the girl's retreating figure from inside the cafe.. your temper cooled just enough for you to think straight again and you instantly paled, regretting everything you did
YOU ARE READING
The Voice(Ghost!Purple guy X Reader) DISCONTINUED
FanfictionAfter the fire that burned down the just barely opened Fazbear's Fright horror attraction, a girl named (Y/n), an avid collector of vintage oddities sneaks into the charred remains of the establishment looking for salvageable treasures, she stumbles...
