Anastasiya Greyson is back in her stuck up hometown for her senior year after the death of her mom. she already left once and she can't afford to get close to people just for her leave again. but would a friendship with her childhood love be worth t...
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TW: SEXUAL ASSAULT AND DEATH
Anastasiya Greyson Monday, August 30th
"Thanks for the ride, McKenna! I'll see you, tomorrow babe." I wave back to her as I walk up to the stairs of the apartment building.
I'm climbing the three flights of stairs up to my mom's apartment and an uneasy feeling is making its way into my stomach. I don't know why it's there but the feeling only pushes me to run up the stairs faster and make sure everything's ok.
I hope she's ok.
She's the only one that can protect me.
I reach the locked front door of my mom apartment building and, my keys jingle in my hand as I hastily pull them out with shaky hands to insert the right one into the door, fumbling from the line of tears welling up in my eyes and the uneasy feeling that's resting in my stomach.
I finally get the key into the hole and push the door open quickly, scanning the apartment for my mother to come bounding to the door, scooping me up into a hug, and spreading kisses all over my face.
But that's not what I found.
What I find is my mother wearing nothing but a tank top and her underwear. The tanktop has two large circles of blood, one on the stomach and one on the left side of her chest. The worst part of it is one of the kitchen knives stabbed into the left side of my mother's chest, right where her beating heart should be.
I scream in agony and pain at my mother's lifeless face, her pale skin and purple lips, her bloodstained tank top, and the bruises up and down her arms that look like handprints.
I fall to her side, trying to find some form of life as my tears fall down and I cry out for what feels like hours and hours.
My mother's gone.
The only woman who's ever cared about me and the only one to protect me is gone.
The screams get louder and louder until they drown out the entire scene and my vision fades to black, falling back onto the floor.
"Anastasiya!" A very familiar voice yells in concern, shaking me back to consciousness.
I'd know that voice anywhere, why is August Matthews here in California? Is it for my mother's funeral?
Only as my eyes adjust and I realize I'm not in California, I'm back in my childhood bedroom with my childhood best friend looking at me with the world's worry in his eyes, "Auggie? What are you doing he–"
I can't even finish my sentence till he pulls me into his familiar arms and all the memories from what must have been a few hours ago starting flooding back,
