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chapter eleven faint memories ✵ ✵ ✵
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Arden hated the next door neighbors. She hated the smell of cigarettes, she hated Frosted Flakes, and she hated the fact she kept tripping over her own feet when trying to play just dance. Just dance was overrated anyway.
The snobby dicks who lived next door and practically put cameras in her house due to how much they knew about her. Well, they didnt know much, but the fact that they knew at least one fact about her was more than enough. They were so utterly annoying.
You see, the Andersons were convinced that Arden was some kind of criminal who was hiding from the government. How they knew that, she didnt know. Yet, she was convinced that if they knocked on her door one more time that month she may as well commit murder, and arson, and steal a thing or two while she was at it.
She was also convinced she'd get away with it.
But that was besides the point, the point was that she hated them with her whole well being. However, the more they seemed to anger her, the hatred fueling her heart, the worse it made her feel.
She didn't want to be an angry person.
So to hopefully find some way to put out the flame, she found that going on bike rides and getting tattoos made it fade out just for a little bit. That is until one stupid thing made her flame ignite again.
Yet as she came to a stop in her driveway, she took off her helmet and got off her bike, scanning her house for any potential threat. Her heart began hammering in her chest, a feeling she hadn't felt for years, when her eyes found her front door opened. She immediately drew her katana out and held it in front of her.
The rain continued to fall onto her body and she regretted not bringing her jacket. She went along the side of her house, keeping eye on her surroundings and the ground below her. Her breath hitched in her throat and she fought the urge to change her body and run away.
Running away was for losers.
Walking through the back door, she caught sight of three figures rummaging around her living room.
