Having everyone you know disappear in front of your eyes can lead to some quite destructive tendencies.
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After moving away from home in the UK, Delilah Carlton begins her new life in Denver...
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Nakama |noun| A very good friend or comrade that one considers as family, even if they're not necessarily related.
A loud ringing cut through Delilah's home, the house phone blaring through the walls as it waited for someone to pick it up.
"Are you going to get that?" Raina called from her seat in the living room, the television yelling something that Delilah couldn't make out from her room.
Fazing her eyes back in, Delilah sits up from her bed—something that had finally arrived thank whatever god was up there. Looking over at her opened the door, Delilah makes her way over to the staircase, looking over the small railing that separated her from the drop. "Give me a second," Delilah called, rubbing her eyes as she started down the staircase, making sure she didn't miss a step and take a tumble.
"Well, hurry it up anyway. That phone is doing my head in." Raina complained from her spot, turning the television up. "Who even has our house number? Have you given it to anyone?" She questions, her voice dropping an octave at the accusation.
"No one," Delilah said once she reached the bottom, her socks rubbing against the hard wooden floor as she walked over to the phone. "Whoever is calling I didn't give them the number." She stated as she picked up the old device.
"Hello?" She questions into it, waiting for the other person to either hang up or for some rando to go on a rant and either try and sell her something or complain.
Instead, she heard the words of somebody else. "Delilah? is that you?" Gwen spoke from the other side. Her voice came out slightly scratchy as she waited for Delilah's response, the phone messing up her vocals.
"Gwen? How the fuck did you get this number?" Delilah asked, startled at hearing the other girl's voice.
"Langauge." Raina absently called, her television being raised in volume once again.
"Finally!" Gwen said. "I have one of those telephone books. I've just been calling the houses that lived on your street." She stated, and even through the phone, Delilah could tell that the younger girl was proud of herself.
"How many people did you call before me?" Delilah asks as a grin makes its way onto her face as she lent one of her shoulders against the wall, slumping into it.
"About seventeen houses," Gwen says without missing a beat.
"Seventeen!" The number nearly makes Delilah choke on her own spit. "You know how much of a menace you are?" She genuinely asks, her eyes flickering up to look at Raina. Her mother was staring deafly at the television but Delilah could tell that she wasn't paying attention to what was happening on screen anymore and was instead listening in to Delilah's conversation, or at least her side of it.
