-Chapter 1-

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Y/N's POV

I am faced with the now oh so familiar jelly cube as my dinner. I stab my fork into it, though instead of consuming the poor excuse of food I simply stare at it. My attention is stolen from the cube as a means of Coco's carps over a post-apocalyptic meal not be 5-star quality. I roll my eyes and finally begin to eat.


The now-familiar emotion has arrived again, I guess referring to it as an emotion is illogical. Considering that the part of it I despise the most is the pure numbness. The numbness that led me to never want to survive, although I truly had no choice. I was told I was chosen due to "idealistic genes" that I suspect may have to do with that I'm a witch. A failed witch but nonetheless a witch.


My train of thought is interrupted by the horrendous loud arguing of the others. I finish my food and leave the table including all the nonsense of the rest of the group.


These past 18 months have been horrid. Being forced to listen to Evie ramble about the rich lifestyle that she refuses to let go of or Coco's objection of her laundry not folded a certain way. Gallant does nothing but side with Coco and yell at his grandmother which truly doesn't put a stop to the madness. Malory enables all of them by never calling them out. Leading to a never-ending cycle of complaints.


Andre and his hatred of his mother is a mystery I don't care to solve. Emily and Timothy avoid the chaos with each other. Which is something I could never blame them for although I do envy them.


I am left with myself due to my inability to listen to these people's gripes. In this building that feels as if it is getting smaller each and every day.

Although truly I've gotten quite lonely.


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