KY$ ✓

Thirty-Two | Silence

SOTC: Burning Memories by Machine Gun Kelly (ft. Lil Skies)

This was as hopeful as it is illegal.

Because while the Red Sea of machinery pumping exhaust into the atmosphere called heavy traffic surrounded me, I was a teenager with a bare maximum of fifteen hours under her permit.

Should I have a permit at seventeen? Yes.

Did I earn a bruise every time I grazed the edge of a pothole?

That's fairly obvious by now.

But even if this was the recipe to become a news headline to cancel a DMV faster than Andrew Tate for the bazillionth time, I gave less of a fine care.

I had a clue to finding him.

The drive was three hours of dopamine chemicals energizing throughout my body and praying for my soul. By the time I was down to minutes, it was nightfall.

Suddenly, I was driving through a neighborhood. A really nice neighborhood.

Even in the light of my headlights, I found the intricate houses to be complete with garlands on the doorways.

"Arrived."

I parked on the edge of the sidewalk as soon as my Siri announced it.

My heart beat within the blood coarsing in the wake of my eardrums with each step I took towards 81532 Shaker Heights Drive as soon as I got out of the car.

It was a house— a freaking nice one like its neighbors. String lights extended across the backyard I walked across, tied from lanterns shaped like totem poles over a patio set. Behind it all was a large, glass sliding door leading into a kitchen.

In the kitchen, behind the marble island, was a red-head. God clearly blessed her; from the way her large red curls fell down her porcelain freckled face to her ribcage, she looked like an AI character generator. And with those Dove chocolate, doe eyes, her prominent features only intensified.

Pinned to her scrub-looking attire was a name tag, Ygritte.

Ygritte swayed back and forth with her pink lips upward in a glowing smile, a hand caressing her pregnant stomach. A five month along one, maybe.

Ok, wrong house. I swear to god my GPS needed a frea—

Suddenly, her face illuminated as a man walked out behind her. His pale blonde hair with each wisp clean, and black eyes sparkling like I'd never seen.

Even when his eyes would graze upon my face.

Blood free fell out of my head from my veins, inducing stabbing shivers within my corpse. My cortex and heart constricted wires around me to explode them. My lips sucked off each other without oxygen to exude out— only a pained, high pitched speak with the voice cracks if a pubescent. Like every body part had been bludgeoned out my soul with a jackhammer and I wanted to scream at the perpetrator.

Ygritte lifted her head to nuzzle her nose against his. His jaw nestled into her shoulder as he synced his movements with her, both hands resting on her swollen stomach.

The scars of removed letters once spelling CLARA prominent on his knuckles.

That made me laugh.

Either they were too lost in their bliss or their windows were soundproof, the cacophony booming from my ribs exuded in the violence of exorcism. So hoarsed and pained that the Earth would shatter in knives gouging my eyes out in the speed the rainstorm that pooled in my sockets blurred the vision before me. Beads in me head screamed for air in the volume of a Jew in a gas shower, banging on my skull to scream for my life.