Avery Turner, a perfectionist with a double life, and Kyran Drake, a charismatic boy with secrets, find their fates intertwined when their secrets threaten to unravel their dreams-will they overcome their differences to protect their futures, or wil...
*Trigger warning: Child abuse, and descriptions of emotional violence / physical violence*
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Click. Delete.
Delete Instagram.
Delete Snapchat.
Delete Revolut.
Delete VPN Free.
Delete Spotify.
Clear. Private mode tabs.
App Store - Sign Out.
Settings - Wallet. Remove Revolut card.
It's a repeated process. It's something I do every day. I download them in the morning before I leave for school and I delete the apps that I can't have my mom see in the evening. It frightens me so much, that one day she sees anything, any trace of these on my phone, I would be in the deepest trouble possible.
Walking home, I was greeted by the tranquility of the Hedge Row and the Garden. Everything there felt so alive, beautiful, and free. Free, to reach the heights or fall to the ground. I sometimes wished I could whisk myself away and imagine I was someone else.
I finished early, and it was still bright when the sun was hiding behind those pastel clouds. It was 4, and I didn't have to be home until 5:30. It was still the start of Fall, and the leaves were slowly turning amber, although some trees were still green, reminding me of the summer that I had not spent in Connecticut.
I sat on the creaky wooden bench that had a memorial plaque embedded in it.
Aria James - Born 15/12/2006; Died 03/07/2011
"I joyfully awaited the exit – and I hope never to return"
I looked away, forgetting the mysterious Aria James and her mysterious life. Forgetting isn't the right word. Ignoring, perhaps. My bag lay next to me on the isolated bench and I opened it before closing it again.
I sped out of the park and walked in the direction of my house.
I was home earlier than usual, which meant that I could maybe get more work done tonight and get some sleep as well. However, that all depended on my mom's mood, and what she was going to tell me to do. I was trembling, not from the cold, as I made my way to the front door.
I hesitated when I felt my heart clench in my chest. What if she was still mad at me? Yesterday, she was bearable. Today...
I knocked on the door three times, scratching at my fingernails and biting my lip. I did it subconsciously and I stopped entirely when I saw her silhouette through the distorted glass windows on the side of the door.
