forty-four

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Pixies
••• Wave of Mutilation •••

cease to resist giving my goodbye drive my car into the oceanyou'll think i'm dead but i'll sail away on a wave of mutilation

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cease to resist giving my goodbye
drive my car into the ocean
you'll think i'm dead
but i'll sail away
on a wave of mutilation

•••••




tw: blood, graphic depiction of gore, panic attack, assault, mind manipulation, just another day in ninjago 😋✌️

Is tbe also a horror fic? maaaaaybe. just a lil.





  "Make sure you're back home in time for dinner," Mum said. She patted my hair and smiled. "Don't get lost in your book all day."

  "And stay within the village!" Dad added from the kitchen.

  I nodded before dashing out the door. It was spring and we'd just moved homes. I couldn't remember the name of the village, but it was a lot smaller than Ninjago City - I was particularly distraught about the five-book library.

  Holding my book to my chest, I wandered the cobblestone streets and curiously watched people bustle about their day. It was autumn but it was warm, and most children my age would be in school. I wasn't allowed to start until next week.

  The large fountain in village square seemed like a good place to read, so I found a spot and opened my book. It was my only friend in this strange, new place. My other friends had all been left behind in the city. Mum promised I could visit them, but that didn't stop the loneliness from weighing me down during the days in-between.

  It's hot in the desert - hotter than the city. I dipped my hands in the fountain's lukewarm water to pat the sweat from my forehead and followed the shadow cast by the sculpture as the sun rolled overhead. Eventually, my shoes came off. I sat and read with my legs in the water.

  I was there until my book was finished. It had an ending I liked, so I packed myself up to return home and grab another from my collection.

  When I arrived I found a stranger in our box-filled living room. He sat on the couch with my parents, tall and wily and thin, a shock of white hair and yellow eyes behind thin-rimmed glasses. They were having tea. My parents smiled at me and didn't introduce us, as if I should've already have known him.

  My skin prickled. There was a sheen to their eyes I didn't like. I didn't like the way the white-haired man was looking at me, either. He reminded me of the bad character in my book.

  "Look who came to see us get settled in," Dad said warmly.

  "Who is he?" I asked. 

  My parents frowned in confusion. The man continued to smile, sharp and unsettling.

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