- What if 𝙉atalia can't
accept getting things
thrown at her anymore?
ᶜˡᵃʸ ʲᵉⁿˢᵉⁿ
𝙉atalia 𝘽exley was an ordinary girl. Her grades were good and she had good friends. The girl had never experienced anything b...
tw: mentions of suicide + suicidal thoughts + r4pe
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BLOOD DRIPPED INTO Natalia's eyes. The old Sycamore tree she sat under was glazed in it, oozing through every crevice and pore. She lay beneath it soaking in the full moon. Her skin moist with crimson, illuminated by the night sky. The universe rained hell downward onto Earth. Fire licked Natalia's skin in efforts to wash her of her sins.
This hellish land had been all Natalia's nightmares had been made of, blood blinded her often resulting in her expulsion. She'd be sent off to planet Mars to tackle aliens and domesticate animals that looked similar to the boys on Earth that peeled back the layer of dust from what was innocence and renew girls with what they call maturity.
Her hopes and dreams crusted into small pieces of herself she'd never get back.
She sat on her bed, cross legged. Anxiety filled her to the brim. Her life had never been as complicated as it's been in these past few months. She was about to move on and onto the next chapter, but yet she still swirled her old friend's ring around her finger.
Twitching with the sudden urge to grieve to past, she got up trying to prevent her from moving on from anxiousness to full blown insanity.
Her eyes had been blinded, but she needed to remove the mask. Her recurring dreams came to her mind. Tasting her own blood and drinking it with Bryce Walker. He was a wine connoisseur downing her like a good Merlot her mother kept in the wine cooler.
Sometimes her nightmares would simmer down into a dream where she'd be sitting on the highest branch on the tree and stare at the stars along Hannah. Much better than her nightly visit with Bryce. In her eyes, he could never be the angel. He popped up, and her whole sleep would tarnish.
Natalia wasn't entirely sure who she was. All of the energy she was supposed to give into for self discovery was spent on different problems. Now, she was the same Natalia Bexley, swelling with old problems and insecurities she should've worked through.
God how she wanted more out of highschool. It must be it wasn't meant for her. These lessons she was taught, were hand crafted to get through life. Through relationships. Through hard times.
She was having a crisis as she paced around her room, hair tossed up in a knotted mess. She'd been running her fingers through it nonstop, tugging at the ends as she debated in her head on her next step.
The whispers of homecoming coursed through her memory. She wanted to suffer for her sins. She didn't know where to begin or what to do but she needed to feel better. There was no Clay. There was no mom or dad. She was too far gone. She began to spiral. Her desk where school papers, pens, markers and some small picture frames lay. She swiped them all of of the deep with her forearm, grunting.
