Paris|| Pierre Gasly

Six

She's kind of who I think Willow would look like. Idk bout you though.
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I concentrate on the patting of the rain against the window of the car, trying to block out the scolding from my parents. But it didn't help, nor did the soft sound of the song Afternoon Delight playing on the radio help block their screams.

"An embarrassment to the company"

"Reckless"

"Could have gotten hurt"

And most importantly,

"We didn't raise you like this"

But the list goes on. I guess hurt equals discipline. I tried not to take it too harshly, like every time they criticise me. Until I thought of Pierre's little note. That little unrealistic note telling me to run away from my parents. It's basically what I did the whole night except it will be a more...extreme version. But was the night worth it? Fuck yeah it was.

The car stopped in front of our house. I didn't even notice that we made it past the gate. I guess thinking about that note helped me block the chiding. I continue to stare at the note, but my parents wouldn't stop mother fucking talking and talking. This time they were sending personal attacks to me and I just had enough. Maybe I can run away from them. I will run away from them.

I screamed til my lungs deflated. I didn't have a high pitched voice (in fact it's a bit too deep for a girl) so it sounds more like a little boy's AAAAAAAHHHHHH. My fists unclenched and my eyes started watering. I just had a small tantrum in the car.

At least they stopped talking. They looked at me as I aggressively wiped the tears coming out of my eyes uncontrollably. I deeply sighed and opened the door of the car and heading directly to my room.

3:00 in the morning,

I lay on my bedroom floor, listening to unfound bands singing about cigarettes and love. I want to replay the events that happened recently. I place my forearm on my eyes so I saw nothing but darkness.

I woke up, did not notice that I had fallen asleep on my carpeted bedroom floor and still in my— I sniff my dress— dress that awfully smelled like body odour. I sat up and glanced at the clock. Eleven in the morning. I went in my bathroom to go take a shower and got ready.

I went downstairs and checked the garage if any of the cars were used. One of them was, meaning my father is using it.

"Willow," I hear my mom call me. I turned around to see her in the kitchen looking at me. Her face plastered a look that was unreadable. Possibly a mixture of emotions that couldn't be expressed properly.

I walk to her, knowing she will be apologising for last night and telling me my wrong doings passively.

"I'm sorry dear— for last night I mean. Your father and I were just worried sick. It's a big world out there and nowhere is safe. You were gone for too long, and you know you don't posses a phone." And there it is.

"No, you're right mum. Apologies for the fit that happened in the car." I smiled before she said anything else and grabbed a bowl of muesli in the fridge. I head out to the kitchen and into a room where my brother's pc lingered. I sat on the executive office chair, turned on the pc and stared at the cpu's water cooling system glow blue. Once the desktop showed, I clicked the browser to go to Google mails.

Hey Pierre,

What the actual fuck? You can't be serious.

I typed in. I paused before typing even more. I was staring at the blinking cursor, waiting for me to type in more words. I erased everything except the salutations.