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"Are you scared?"

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"Are you scared?"

***

Lydia stumbled back home after dropping off Jennifer's car at her house, still in shock. Her thoughts were adrift. In one hand, she held her broken heels, leaving her barefoot on the tarmac. Luckily, there was no one out here to see Lydia Martin as a wreck.

The moment she was back in the comforts of her own home, her brain continued on autopilot. She attended to her normal routine and got ready for bed. In the shower, Lydia washed away her tear-stained makeup and the ashes that marked her body. The cross drawn on her hand remained, fading ever so slightly.

Then, she dried her hair and put on her pyjamas. She crawled onto her bed, breathing heavily as she laid down on her cotton pillowcase. It was almost as if she could still hear the screams of those who perished in the fire. 

The shittiest bar in Beacon Hills burnt down, but Lydia wasn't even surprised. All she could do was close her eyes and pretend that it was all just some horrifying dream.



Lydia returned to the memories of her childhood. They were bright and colourful, the amber sun shining brightly in the sky. Two familiar little girls sat in the sandbox, playing with their toys.

"I'll be Perfect Prom Betty," A young Jennifer told Lydia, fondling a beautiful Barbie doll in one hand. In her other hand was an uglier doll with a broken arm that she stuck into the sand. "And you be her."

She sneered at the doll. "Why do I have to be Ugly Ashley?"

Before the young girl could respond, Jennifer cried out in pain. "Ow!"

"What's wrong, Jennifer?" asked Lydia with a tone of concern. 

There was a small pin that was jabbed deep into her flesh. Lydia quickly pulled it out and threw it away; a tiny pool of blood formed from the wound. Her friend then kissed it better, sucking up some of the blood.

"Don't tell my mom, she'll make me get a shot." She told her.

"I would never tell on you," Lydia promised, the girls smiling sweetly at each other.



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