𝕾𝖆𝖙𝖆𝖓𝖎𝖈 𝕾𝖊𝖉𝖚𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝟏𝟖+[ᴋᴛʜ ꜰꜰ]

𝐗𝐕𝐈𝐈|𝐘𝐍|

❛Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness.

It took me years to understand that this too was a gift❜

A gentle, but firm knock vibrates my front door. It's almost becoming an instinct for my heart to skip a few beats whenever I hear any noise in the manor. Surely, that can't be healthy. I walk over to the window next to the door, peeking through the hole to see who it is. I groan out. I want to be relieved that it's not some creepy ass dude outside my door, holding a gun and spouting about how if he can't have me, nobody can. Really, I do.

So all I am is a little curious that it's not the persistent shadow ready to end my life.

With a heavy sigh, I swing open the door and greet Lily.Parker is known as my mother. Her crimson thick hair is tucked tightly into a chignon, red nude lipstick painted on her thin lips, and icy blue eyes. She's so prim and proper, and I'm so not. Where she holds herself with regality and grace, I have a terrible habit of slumping and sitting with my legs open.

To what do I owe the pleasure, Mother?.

I ask dryly. She sniffs, unimpressed with my attitude.

It's cold out here. Aren't you going to invite me in?.

She snips, waving an impatient hand for me to move. When I reluctantly step aside, she pushes past me, a wisp of her Chanel perfume trailing in her wake. I cringed at the smell as I closed the door behind me, I was not able to guess how she found me in this big New-York City. She looks around the apartment, distaste evident on her pinched face. She grew up in this gothic house and the darkness of the interior must've influenced the insides of her heart.

You're going to get wrinkles if you keep looking at the house like that.

I deadpan, shutting the door and brushing past her. She huffs at me, her heels clicking against the checkered tiles as she makes her way to the couch. The fire is roaring, and the lights are dim, creating a cozy atmosphere. It'll start raining soon, and I really hope she leaves by then so I can enjoy my night in with a book and the sound of thunder in peace.

I don't hate her but still don't feel comfortable around her.

Mom sits daintily on the couch, her butt perched on the very edge and I brought water for her from the kitchen, she took a sip of it and gave it back to me and I finished the rest.

Always a pleasure, Frosty.

I scoffed slightly as she sighs, her tone high and mighty, as if it's just another day of her being the bigger person. That sigh. The backdrop to my entire lost memories childhood. It always filled with disappointment and met expectations all at once.