"Hey dumbass, you're incredibly late"
An automated voice calls out.
Milly rolls over in her bed.
"I said hey dumbass, wake up!"
Without opening her eyes, she responds
"Just 5 more minutes, okay dad?"
"Hellooooo? It's timeeee!"
(Wait a second, my dad's not a dick)
Finally her eyes open to see her phone bouncing around quickly on the bedside table, restricted by the charger attached.
"It's late! You've missed your alarm, WAKE UP BITCH!"
Sheer panic and terror hits Milly, as she looks to the phone in hand.
2
Hours
LATE!
She quickly swipes away the 20 missed alarm notifications, and shuts off the one that's currently screaming at her.
(Ah wait no, one of those was a text!)
(Please be Alex!)
She hastily thinks, slamming her finger down on the text app.
(Oh shit wait, I don't remember the end of our date. Did I fucking blackout?)
...
(Oh god please don't be Alex.)
It's Alex
:
[Hey? You alright? You weren't acting so high on our date last night. If you don't want to have another one, tell me, it's okay. But, I'm just checking on you.]
(I'm in pain.) Milly screams, internally.
Taking a deep breath, she composes herself. And after a minute of staring at the phone, she begins responding.
[Hey, look. There's something that I need to explain to you. But I promise, it's nothing bad to do with you. I would love a second date Alex.]
:
(Okay, that's out of the way. I mean, it sets up an even bigger bullet to take, but still.)
At the edge of her bed, she calmly looks into the faded reflection on the tv screen in front of her. Pulling her orange beanie up slightly to reveal her cracked, multicolored forehead crystal.
She can't help but worry.
(Would he even want to date me if he knew?)
...
"Nah king, you're Milly Melancholy. Of course he will."
Not dwelling on it, too much... She gets up, picks the dirty work clothes off of the floor, and leaves her room, oblivious to any controllers around her as she passes by.
Zooming straight to the laundry room, she puts the clothes in quickly.
After turning the washer machine on, closing that big, metallic lid, Milly looks softly into it's clear eyes.
"Yeah, you take that load you dirty littl-"
"Oh, Milly, you're awake."
She jumps around to find her mother standing there, smile on her small, wrinkly cheeks.
"Yeah, sorry I don't have time to talk, I slept in because of that little demon spawn who sucks her thumb."
Her mom giggles.
YOU ARE READING
Colored Full of Trauma
FantasyTrauma is something that very few people don't have. Life is hard. Now, imagine if your trauma gave you some "magical ability" that is related to it. Like Tommy, a boy who was abused, only to develop the ability to conjure rollerblades on his/other...
