People say, "You have something to live for or God put you here for a reason," and i always ask, "What was that reason?"
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★
Few weeks later...
3rd person pov
The graveyard
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Pictures were scattered across the floor as Soma laid in her bed asleep. The curtains were pulled closed but left a little sunlight that shined on the wall.
It was one of those days where she locked herself in her room and cried to herself. Didn't want to be bothered by the outside world and its problems when she had her own to deal with. She decided to call in and not go to work today.
What tf for?
Soma rubbed her eyes as her vision tried to adjust. Sitting up, she groaned at the pain that inflicted from her body and let out a yawn.
She looked at her unclean room, seeing a plate of food with a paper next to it. Already knowing her aunt put it there, she slowly got out of bed.
"Fuck" she whispered, her thighs almost giving up on her as she stood. Her stomach called for attention, but she ignored it and grabbed her blunt from the dresser and lit it.
The smell of weed filled the air as she walked to the bathroom and closed the door.
She looked in the mirror and almost fainted as she took herself in. Her eyes were bloodshot from her sleep schedule being so fucked up, the bags under her eyes look like they were bruises and she looked like she lost a couple of pounds.
"Why did you leave" She whispered to herself, looking at the photo of her mother that was taped to the mirror. She rubbed her fingers over her moms smile wanting to just feel her smooth brown skin one more time.
