season 1 | chapter 03

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THE SUMMER BREEZE was the only thing that could serve as a form of consolation

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THE SUMMER BREEZE was the only thing that could serve as a form of consolation. It blew on her rosy cheeks with an inexplicable tenderness, in a last attempt to grant the tiniest drop of tranquility her soul ached for.

Lyla pressed with furious temper – almost punched – the decline button on the phone, ending the call with the monster.

That human stopped being a person - much less a dad - the moment his true, atrocious colors came into the light. The day she found out his intentions was the day where her last fragments of feelings for him faded.

He was despicable.

Lyla tightened the grip on her cell phone. She was unable to keep the promise she made to herself; to not allow him affect, or worse, ruin her night, yet he did.

In the end, he always won.

In the end, she always failed.

She shook her head. Her despair was his joy, his perverted, wicked way of amusement.

He couldn't win.

No matter how many times she went through it in her mind, there wasn't much she could do to alter the situation, to provide a positive outcome. She repeated to herself over and over again she wouldn't sit with her hands tied. Despite her effort to turn the tables around, the monster had a sick talent of twisting the circumstances to his favor.

"Lyla?"

Hilary's voice snapped her out of her trance. She couldn't face anyone, yet she had to. She had to channel the strength to move on.

She curled her hands into fists, the blood in her veins coursing through her in wild, relentless waves. The pressure gathered between her delicate fingers was the psychological burden she tried to keep at bay. She caged everything into one place. If she let it go, if she released all she suppressed to the very last bit, she would crumble. The rise wouldn't happen soon and there was no room for mistake.

The new academical year was a week away. If she wanted to excel, she had to hold onto the seams that were close from being torn apart.

She had to focus.

She arched her neck and leaned her shoulder back to look at her friend. "Yes, Hilary?"

Hilary froze. She had spent the past ten minutes searching for Lyla after she'd answered the call. She'd understood in a heartbeat it was her father at the end of the line. The color had drained from her friend's face and her jaw had clenched. She'd hoped this time Lyla would've taken the bullets he'd fired at her more lightly.

She was disappointed to the core this wasn't the case.

The depths of the sadness she carried etched on her features made her almost unrecognizable. His horrid nature almost transformed one of the brightest, one of the most brilliant sources of light and positivity she'd ever met to something else – to something ruined.

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