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( FAYE )

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( FAYE )




sitting on the hardwood tiles of our bedroom, i rummage through one of sadies unpacked bags, searching for a replacement toothbrush from the ones she typically swipes from hotels.

my own met an unfortunate fate, taking an unexpected dive into the toilet this morning.

for such an accomplished woman, sadie is very lazy. unpacked luggage and bags lay scattered throughout the house, most of them from recent travels while some date back months.










my heartbeat echoes in my ears as i unearth a familiar sight, the ripped and worn-out chestnut binding of a notebook.

there it was, buried beneath a pile of socks.










i hadn't lost the journal; sadie had taken it.










a sudden tightness grips my chest, and my breaths morph into erratic gasps, barely supplying the oxygen my body craves.

the walls seem to close in, and every sound converges into an overwhelming cacophony.

thoughts race through my mind, an unrestrained torrent of fears that i struggle to unravel. amidst the chaos, coherence becomes elusive.

the room, once standing still, begins to spin in a chaotic dance, leading me to seek stability on the edge of the bed.

each passing second stretches into an eternity, as i yearn for the storm within me to subside.

"why?" my shaky breath releases into the room, as if expecting an answer from the walls themselves.
































































































































































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𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐘 | sadie sinkWhere stories live. Discover now