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season 1 episode 4
❛ and i hate to do this on your birthday, happy birthday by the way. ❜ - party favor by billie eilish.
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WHEN DOES ONE start living? when they've lived through enough and finally get to feel free, or when they haven't lived at all so they start fresh?
lucianna bernard had a full life, it was pretty great. a great house, great friends, great grades, great looks, great reputation. she was kind, but was she free?
only recently she's realized how controlled she was by her mother. luci didn't want to cheer, she didn't want to move into a new house, she didn't want to stop visiting grams because frankly, she realized that sheila bennett was a much better mother figure to her than her own mother. and that woman was around twenty more years older than mary.
lucianna wanted to make her mom so happy, that she forgot about what she wanted. luci lost her sense of self. she was more selfless than a soulless body.
luci liked to believe that everyone had a good side. turns out she's been gaslighting herself all her life. she didn't know what to believe anymore. did she actually like the things she liked, or did her mom make her like them?
luci felt the car stop with a jolt. the blonde groaned at her pained head, another one of those headaches. the freshly turned sixteen year old looked around her fearfully as the driver's seat door slammed shut.
it was definitely morning. weak sun rays glimmered in between tree branches out the window.
last thing she remembered was waiting for her mother and then—she was knocked out cold.
the car was big, a jeep probably. so she had to sit up to look out the window.
luci found herself at a gas station in the middle of no where.
the girl got out of the car hesitantly before shutting the door. luci spun around but there was no one. who drove her here and where were they?
"look who's up."
luci yelped as she gasped at the sudden presence and placed her hand on her heart. "gosh. if you're gonna kidnap me atleast don't give me a heart attack...please."
she looked up at the person and frowned. he looked not a day older than 17. usually kidnappers were older than that, but who was she to decide that.
"sorry about that. the scaring you part—not the kidnapping part. not sorry for that. i'll explain everything later. i need gas, we need gas for the car. i will be right back..." the man retorted before trailing off to presumably find gasoline for the car.
