𝟬𝟬𝟬 𝗋𝗈𝗈𝖿𝗍𝗈𝗉 𝗆𝖾𝖾𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌

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prologue

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prologue.       rooftop meetings.
©-LOSTGARDENS, ❪ 2023 ❫

©-LOSTGARDENS,   ❪ 2023 ❫

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ONE YEAR AGO !

❪ ✷ ❫          The air was calm but chilly; it danced across Magnolia's olive skin. She was sitting on her rooftop, just outside of her bedroom window. It was the only place she could get a little bit of peace.

The muffled sounds of her parents fighting downstairs—glass shattering, probably from her mother throwing liquor bottles, and them yelling at one another—caught her ears, but she tried her damndest to block them out.

The stars shone brightly in the pitch-black sky as she continued to puff on cigarette after cigarette. Hour after hour, she sat there listening to their arguments; nothing ever changed; it was an every-night occurrence.

Nothing ever worked to get rid of the oh-so-disturbing sounds.

Every fight was the same: her parents would be drunk, and they would get into an argument over something stupid; they would yell for hours, one of them would end up hitting the other, and then they would pass out on the couch together.

Some nights were different, though.

Some nights, Magnolia would be the target of punches and slaps; they would go after her instead of each other. And that was how she got the gnarly black eye on the left side of her face—her mother had punched her in a fit of rage.

A fit of stupid, unnecessary, and tiring rage.

Alondra, her mother, had been angry, as always. The deadbeat that she called her husband had been late getting home from work, and she insisted that he was cheating, but really he was getting the bottle of vodka that she had asked him to get on his way home earlier that morning.

Somehow her mother ended up blaming everything on Magnolia, and she ended up getting hit. And when tears threatened to spill from her eyes, she was cussed out and told to get the hell out of her mother's sight.

Affection.           ISAAC LAHEYWhere stories live. Discover now