𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 18+

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟔

Warning: This chapter contains references to past self-harm. Please read with caution.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

-𝙾𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟺, 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟹 - 𝟾:𝟷𝟻 𝙿.𝙼-

"Mia, I'm home," I called out, my voice echoing through the empty apartment. I dropped my bag heavily on the couch, the weight of the day's work pressing down on me. I had spent hours at the library, poring over books and notes, followed by an equally grueling shift at the café. The exhaustion was settling into my bones, each step feeling like I was trudging through quicksand.

"Mia?" I repeated, peering around the dimly lit living room. The silence that greeted me felt oddly hollow. I stood there, my shoulders slumping with fatigue, waiting for a response. The only sounds were the faint hum of the refrigerator and the distant chatter of the city outside.

"Mia?" I called once more, walking toward her room. The apartment's narrow hallway was lined with faded wallpaper and a few scattered framed photos of us from happier days. As I approached her room, I could hear the muffled sound of a giggle and the soft murmur of conversation.

"Again, thank you. I really appreciate it," Mia's voice drifted through the slightly ajar door, her tone warm and earnest. Curiosity piqued, I slowly opened the door, revealing Mia sprawled on her bed, her phone pressed to her ear.

Her room, though small, was cozy and neatly organized, with a large, comfortable bed covered in a fluffy comforter and a few scattered pillows. The walls were decorated with a string of fairy lights and old photos pinned up with colorful thumbtacks. A few potted plants sat on the windowsill, adding a touch of green to the space.

I slowly opened the door wider. "Mia?"

Mia looked up at me from her bed, wearing a tank top and gray sweatpants. "Oh, I have to go, bye," she said with a smile, ending the call. "Finally, you're here," she said with another smile. "I'm gonna make something for dinner."

"Veggie Garlic Noodles?" I asked, though what I really wanted to ask was who she was talking to.

"Yup."

I smiled as she got out of bed. "I'm gonna take a bath," I said as I walked out of her room. "You didn't use all the hot water?" I asked her as we walked down the hall.

"No, rude," she replied with a playful roll of her eyes.

"You know what's rude? Using the bathroom for too long," I shot back, smirking.

"Touché," she laughed, heading to the kitchen. As she started preparing dinner, I could hear the clattering of pots and pans, accompanied by her humming a cheerful tune.

I headed to the bathroom, eager to wash off the stress of the day. As I stood before the mirror, I couldn't ignore the way I looked, even though I tried to brush it off. My caramel skin, which usually held a warm, inviting glow, now seemed dull under the harsh bathroom lights. My straight, wavy hair, falling in dark cascades down to the small of my back, was damp and clung to my shoulders. My brown, earthy eyes, inherited from my dad, looked tired and worn.

I peeled off my shirt, revealing a black lace push-up bra. I winced as I caught sight of the scars etched into my arms. They were an intricate web of white lines and faded marks, each one a silent testament to my past battles. The scars stretched from wrist to shoulder, a painful reminder of the countless times I had tried to escape the chaos within. Each mark was a chapter in my struggle, a story of moments when I had nearly succumbed to despair.

Out of nowhere, there was a knock. "Hey, make sure you hurry up, okay? The food may get cold," Mia's voice called through the door.

"Okay, okay, I'm taking a shower," I replied with a smile, trying to push away the dark thoughts.