WELCOME WHORES. CLUTCH YOUR PEARLLLLLLS.
HERE WE GO!!
...
It was the clash from the kitchen that woke Olivia from her nightmare.
The same nightmare she'd been having since the night she came home to an empty house.
Empty of love, empty of her smile, empty of any reason to continue residing in this... house. It didn't feel like a home anymore.
Olivia would curse that of 1785 Cornelius Street until the day she died... or at least until the day she finds it in her to sell it.
Her nightmare was of the worst details that her brain had willed itself to recall to her every night, including but not limited to the sound of Minnie's father's hand striking the very cheek that Olivia would plant her delicate kisses on every now and then. While she heard the unsettling sound on repeat, she saw much more. First, it was the absence of the white board. Gone it was, nails still stuck in the wall as if its memories were ripped off of the foundation without a second thought. That was just the kitchen, though. Even as she called the girl's name, nothing could have prepared her for the look of their bedroom. Oh... that's right, sorry; Olivia's bedroom. Only one side of the bed was made. Her side. It was bare of any color or life as the entire bed spread seemed to have been shoved onto Olivia's side.
She remembers the look on her face, despite not being able to see herself. She could feel the drop in her face as her eyes lay wide on the dent in the sheets that belonged to the woman she loved. The woman she thought loved her. Clearly, not enough to stay.
Back to the setting of weighted despair, Olivia sat up at the sound. The pain of her nightmares lingered in the storm clouds of her mind as she rubbed her eyes.
Groaning, she maneuvered her way off of the bed. She wanted to grab the blanket from the chair in the corner of the room for warmth, but waved it off at the sight of the blanket that a certain someone had purchased for her not two years ago. With another groan, she waddled her way towards the kitchen to inspect the noise.
Nothing in the kitchen had moved. There was nothing on the floor, nothing laying on its side, and no entities opening every cabinet.
So, curiously, Olivia investigated the inside of her fridge, wondering if the ice maker finally decided to start working in the late hours of the night. Still, the girl frowned at the lack of any toppled over refrigerated items.
It was when she had opened the freezer that she had discovered the source of the sound. As she struggled to open it in the first place, she assumed there was something she was forgetting about its contents.
Her eyes urged to roll to the back of her head at their sight of wayyyy too many tubs of ice cream; each of them were strawberry-flavored.
Fucking ice cream, Olivia cursed herself.
She didn't have it in herself to throw them away. She's been willing herself to forget about them. Though, she ultimately hurts herself in the end, as every time she opens the freezer she's reminded of the weak undertones of her actions.
Getting rid of a couple won't hurt, Olivia thought with a shrug. She's already up, and she'd rather damage her health than go back to sleep and destroy the remaining shards of her heart.
She grabbed the first two tubs in sight, revealing the rest of the contents of the fridge.
There, in the back of the freezer, reserved in its own space, sat a small tub of red velvet ice cream.
As if that was enough for the twitch of Olivia's eyes, she reached for the tub.
She glared at it, uncontrollably blaming it for the collapse of her love life.
