Aurora Lili Routledge, or as everyone calls her; Rory, is the twin sister of John B Routledge. With the summer approaching, Rory and John B have made a perfect plan along with their friends; JJ, Pope, and Kie to have a good time, all the time.
With...
In a whip (whoa), thinkin', "What if (whoa) You and this (whoa) never existed?" Hollow kiss (whoa), bottle liquor (oh) Man, I'm sick, man, I'm schizo
All-white leather You know this man ain't shit without you in the interior (I'm dyin' somewhere in the dark) All-white leather And I think, "What if we weren't ridin' and dyin' together?" The whole world would fall apart
----
'Cause I never felt so alone, felt so alone, na-na I could never be more alone than when I ain't got you here
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Third Person Perspective~
THE shadowed woods, a desolate clearing between towering trees, a twisting labyrinth of forgotten spaces, is cast in an inky darkness. Rory, her disheveled hair a stark contrast to her strained expression, watches as her twin brother, John B and his girlfriend; Sarah, disappears into the night, escaping the clutches of the relentless police.
Rory exhales a shaky breath, her trembling hands fumbling with the hem of her oversized shirt. The weight of the responsibility she feels for her brother's safety, the guilt of letting him go, the fear of what might happen to him, and the imminent separation weigh heavily on her shoulders and gnaws at her soul. The air is thick with tension, and the silence in the the tree covered clearing is broken only by distant echoes of footsteps, chattering and the non-stop wailing of sirens; a constant reminder of the danger lurking in the night.
"Stay safe, birdie," Rory muttered to herself as she stared at the spot he had disappeared.
The breeze whispered through the strands of Rory's disheveled hair, carrying with it the weight of the secrets she now bore. Her twin brother, an innocent soul, falsely accused and hunted like a ghost through the labyrinthine streets of the island. She could still feel the ghostly touch of his fingers slipping away from her own, the silent plea in his eyes as she released him into the abyss of the night with his lover.
She heaves out a heavy sigh as she turns to leave, the reality of the situation sinks in, and Rory's steps become hesitant. She wills herself to stumble through the woods, each step echoing the heaviness in her heart. A chilling wind sweeps through the woods, carrying with it the haunting echoes of the night and the nightmare it had brought along. The shadows seem to dance, mocking her vulnerability, caving in on her.
Rory's breath quickens as she continues to walk out of the wood's labyrinth, anxiety tightens its grip on her, and her steps slow. The ache in her chest reappearing--seemingly it had never left--as she clutches the spot the pain stabbed while she sinks to her knees in the dirt ground of the woods--an oppressive, external force amplifying her fear. She clutches her chest, her other hand wrapping around the pendant dangling from the chain around her neck, trying to suppress the rising panic, but the weight of the situation becomes too much.
