|𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 |𝟏𝟖+

𝐎𝐧𝐞

❤︎︎
𝐈𝐯𝐲

I SAT ON MY couch watching horror movies a couple weeks before summer break. The popcorn was delicious as I chewed on it, enjoying the crunching sound and the saltiness on my tongue. However, my attention was quickly drawn to the blood splatting onto the tv screen, accompanied by terrible graphics and CGI. I couldn't help but roll my eyes at the somewhat unrealistic nature of the scenes.

Suddenly, I heard a shout from the living room. "IVY!" My foster mother's voice echoed through the house. I remained still, my heart pounding slightly as the movie played on. I couldn't help but wonder what she had wanted.

Not a moment later, I heard footsteps coming towards my room. The door opened, and Andrea stepped inside. She paused my movie, her eyes filled with disbelief.

"Ivy," she began, her voice agitated. "When I call your name, I expect an answer."

"What?" I responded, my irritation growing.

Disbelief was evident on her face as she stood there, her mouth slightly ajar. "Ivy, BIC Dean," she said, emphasizing my name. "Can I help you?"

Irritated by her tone, I let out a scoff as I continued eating my popcorn. "Oh my GOD, you're so annoying," I exclaimed, my voice rising with frustration.

Andrea's face displayed impatience as she looked at me. Without saying a word, she turned and started walking out of the room. Without hesitation, I got up from my seat and followed her downstairs.

Downstairs, she instructed me to clean and the kitchen. Starting on the dishes, I scrubbed each plate and utensil diligently. Then I moved on to the counter, wiping it down thoroughly. 

Andrea watched me intently the whole time, her eyes never leaving mine. I could feel her impatience growing, though she remained silent. Despite her demeanor, I continued to work diligently, determined to complete the task she had assigned. 

She was still watching me, her expression a mixture of annoyance and irritation. But she said nothing, leaving me feeling a mix of frustration and annoyance.

Why can't you listen? she uttered in Spanish.

In that moment, as I dropped the mop into the bucket, I rolled my eyes and uttered a response in Spanish, hoping she would understand. "You're not my mother," I said slowly, emphasizing each word.

I noticed that my words had struck her deeply, causing her pain. Her voice softened as she asked me to leave the room.

I complied and went to my room, closing the door behind me. Plugging in my airpods, I turned up the volume and let the soothing music drown out the noise of the TV.

With the background noise of the movie playing, I immersed myself in the lyrics of Traphouse by Tory Lanez. The song echoed through my ears, providing a rhythm for my thoughts.

As the lyrics about the hottest rapper in the city and the consequences of misbehaving filled my ears, a sudden voice interrupted my peaceful solitude. It came from out of nowhere, startling me awake.

Taking out my airpods, I abruptly opened my eyes and found myself face to face with a shadowy figure. Fear gripped me as I struggled to comprehend what was happening.

In a daze, I rushed to the light switch, illuminating the room. But to my relief, the figure was gone. My heart raced as I struggled to regain my composure and control my breathing.

I returned to my bed, still on edge. Unable to shake the unease, I laid down, my eyes fixed on the corner where the figure had stood. After a while, the fatigue finally overcame me, and I fell into a deep sleep, haunted by the eerie encounter.

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