(formally scream, baby!)
[Name] [Surname] thought the worst has already come; being the town's laughing stock and dealing with declining mental health, [Name] already spent her junior year a volatile mess of tears, mucus and anger. The heartache sti...
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00: The First Kill
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IT'S LATE AT NIGHT, and you're still stuck on your second algebra practice question. You balance your pencil between your teeth; brow furrowed as you stare down at the problem in distaste. You groan, the pencil tumbling from your lips as you slam your head into your hands. You grab your hair tightly, twisting the strands as you try to calm yourself down. God, did math confuse the ever-living shit out of you.
You shake away your despair and glance at the kitchen, catching sight of the clock on the microwave: 10:26 PM. You hated yourself for waiting until the last minute to work on your homework. You inwardly sigh in self-deprecation, staring around you at the mess of papers and textbooks. It was barely two and a half months into the first semester, and you were already struggling with keeping up with the mountain-high loads of schoolwork.
The overwhelming weight unravels you, and all you want to do is say 'fuck it' and not do any of it. Only you can't. Your mom already struggles enough as is, and there's no reason to add you to her list, especially after last year. You pick up your pencil and ready it but come to a pause at the sound of a ring.
"Thank fuck." Shoving everything away from you, you push yourself off the ground and stretch your limbs. There are a few pops, and the feeling of pressure being released causes you to sigh. After adjusting your shorts and loose tank-top, you paddle to your landline and pick it up. "Hello?"
There's rough static on the other side. It cackles, the sound burning your ears as you wait expectedly for a reply. "Hello," It says, voice deep and unfamiliar, "Whose this?"
Wrapping your free arm around your torso, you lean against the wall with your eyes on the glass doors leading outside. "Pretty sure that's my line," You chuckle, "You're the one who called me, dude."
"Well... In that case, I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours."
"Oh?" It's basic horror movie one-o-one to hang up, but instead, you can't help but humor the stranger. "What if I don't wanna tell you?" There's a pause. "Why'd you call anyway?" You have an inkling feeling already.
