[Flowers in Her Hair]
╰┈➤ Modern Au
✧ Made: 4/22/24
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Rockabiee plans on dying. Too bad the 9-year-old disagrees with that plan entirely and brings it upon herself to help her. Healing with a drop of friendship ensues.
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—Summary:
"You look like shit." Rockabiee fixes her gaze upon the girl, slightly offended. Of course she looks like shit. She feels like shit too, she desperately wanted to say, but instead she settled for a sarcastic smile.
"Why thank you." She internally winced to herself at how hoarse her voice was from the lack of use.
The girl nodded, oblivious towards the sarcasm. Her eyes still remained on her. Rockabiee subconsciously checked her clothes but found nothing strange on her.
"No but like—you really look like shit," the girl gestured, dragging the word "really" out as long as she could, accentuating with her arms by spreading them out.
Her smile only tightened, "Gee, thanks for that." It's not like she didn't know.
...
Or, Rockabiee planned on dying. She didn't plan on meeting a 9-year-old
. -*☆彡𑁍ミ☆*- .
Roackabiee stared at her shoes as she sat on the bench, feeling dazed with nothing but the croons of owls to block out her ears.
It was late outside. The lanterns were forced to illuminate that attracted fluttering moths. The moon's shaft showered down upon the water fountain. Within the reflection, she could probably see the stars that dotted the sky.
But she was too far away from it and didn't feel like walking over. It was a nice thought though.
Everything was dim. Her surroundings looked dim. The light she used to see as a child in the world had died out. She doesn't know if she astrayed from the wrong path or not. She didn't bring herself to care.
She reached for her phone, immediately wincing at the source of light after hours. Blinking repeatedly until her eyes adjusted, she squinted to read the time displayed on her phone.
12:58, it read. Rockabiee threw a glance towards the couple dancing near an euphoric lantern, blocking a path. Blocking the path for her to leave the park. Despite that, a subtle smile makes its way to her face before a frown immediately trudges on her lips.
She'd hate to be an inconvenience to them.
She tallied how many people were in the same area as her: the couple, a sleeping woman, and a man scrolling on his phone on a bench. Four people in total.
Rockabiee sighed, dragging a hand down her face. She could wait it out. It probably won't be long anyways. It's nearing 1 A.M, the time where teenagers sleep out of spite—or stay until 4AM—she used to fall into the latter. She sleeps til 4AM because that's when her body decides to sleep.
A tragedy, really. Her brain and body are currently struggling with a divorce. She's not bothered by it anymore. They'll make up when they decide to.
Shifting, she adjusts her posture in a more comfortable position, throwing her leg over her knee.
This was going to be a long night.
She should've done it in her room, no one would check there. She had no one waiting for her to come back. It would be simple too. Swallow an entire bottle of pills. She always has her days where she would pass out, or catch a brief cold that could escalate if she wasn't careful.
