► Track Fourteen

357 11 9
                                    

˚                     *                       ⋆
˛                *                          ⭒                    ✺
・          *・゚:      * ❅                              ✧
・ ・                      ..✹         ✧..
.      *✫          ⋆*❅*•̩̩͙ ゚                 ..+                ⋆

⋆                         *                  .                    * .
. ・     .     ・                 .                *    .
. ・            ・ +         .                ⋆** ゚          ..+
.     ⋆                        *                             .
* .             .・    .    ・                  .
⊹                         . *                      ✧
˚                            ..
⋆     ・*・.・                             ..                 ..
* ⊹ *゚
・+                  ・*✫
..               .          ⋆             ❅                    ✫

* .        . ・      . ゚             ⋆                 *⁎̩͙  .
・*・.・
. ・      ・⊹     .                                         ..+
.          ⋆                ❅               .
✫.             . ゚ . ⋆*           .               ⋆           .

dₛₒdₑᵣ

1:15 ───|────── 3:07

|◁ II ▷|

∞ ↺

▁ ▂ ▃ ▄ ▅ ▆ █ 100 %











Warning, this chapter is VERY LONG. 10k words to make up for lost time. Please feel free to read in short breaks or whenever. This chapter will explore topics of PTSD, suvivors guit and racial discrimination. If any of these topics are triggering please prioritise your mental health and feel free to skip. :)





NYA





Fuck, no.

No.

Nya refuse to share this part of her life. It was the lowest, most humiliating, most awful night of her seventeen years and two months of life. Tragedy. Disaster. Heartbreak. She couldn't even find the fucking words.

Why are you still here? Go away!

There she was, oh only a few moments ago, feeling as though all was right with the world, (exaggeration, I apologise), until she was shocked into shame to discover...that Damon put butter and jam on his toast. He mixed them? Blasphemy.

It wasn't that bad, Nya knew. As she sat on Graham's bed in Damon's room, bringing her knees close to her, she knew every little thing was going to upset her. He didn't say anything for a while, neither of them did. What was there left to say? Everyone had their secrets, and everyone kept them so they wouldn't be unlocked. It was never her intention, they weren't supposed to be unlocked by a boy with an ocean in his eyes.

Graham wasn't here, he'd left her all alone at night. He had never before, he had made a promise. But every single one ever given to her seemed to be broken before they were made. To make matters worse she hadn't recieved any mixtapes for the last couple of days. Which broke her into a thousand pieces.

𝐌𝐈𝐗𝐓𝐀𝐏𝐄➳𝗱𝗮𝗺𝗼𝗻 𝗮𝗹𝗯𝗮𝗿𝗻Where stories live. Discover now