❝𝗜𝗦 𝗧𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗔 𝗚𝗨𝗡? 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗙𝗨𝗖𝗞⎯⎯⎯!❞
𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘴 ⌗⚚₎
To reach the absolute lowest or worst point; to reach rock bottom. That was where Rishima Shenoy stood at her thirties; down at the lowest...
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"Ow shit!" Rishima cursed in pain, seated on the floor.
She looked around the unfamiliar place, trying to figure out where the hell she was, but found nothing helpful; just the dark empty alley. Something she did realise — other than the fact that she's injured — is that she feels smaller.
She must have accidentally shifted when going to sleep — with all the thoughts about shifting and her past, it was something probable.
The girl tried to stand up to look around the place but quickly fell on the dirty and smelly floor.
"For fuck's sake! I really should have scripted something about my pain tolerance!" The — now — teenager cursed again before inhaling and exhaling deeply and trying to get up once more.
This time she was successful but that didn't less the pain she was feeling.
"My tolerance seems even worse than my original one.." The girl muttered.
Limping, she used the wall as a helper to walk out of the alley. Reaching the street she found a somewhat different environment; the streets were illuminated and some people roamed around.
However, this informed her of nothing, no clue about what, when and where — and she sure as hell wasn't going to ask around, especially when she feels like she looks like shit. For her whole body to hurt like shit, it means she got a beating of some sort, so she probably looks like a rat.
Then, Shenoy remembered something; she didn't check her pockets, where she could have some valuable information. Maybe a phone or some paper?
So that's what she did. Sadly enough she found nothing. The girl was completely empty.
"See, Rishima? This is why you script shit!" She complained, rolling her eyes to herself and her stupidity.
The bicolour haired girl sighed, noticing that she'll indeed have to ask people around — she hated this already.
She hated the pain and the lack of information.
No one in the streets even spared her a look! They had some fucking audacity to treat someone like her that way.
In the end, she walked around mindlessly, cursing under her breath and didn't ask anyone about a single thing. Luckly, the universe wasn't that cruel — soon she heard a deep voice calling out her name.
"Suzy!" She knew it from somewhere but couldn't really pinpoint it, even when she turned to look at the boy.
The blonde older boy reached her and kept calling out for the girl, but the younger one just stared at him — furiously trying to figure out who he was. Excuse her and her bad memory sometimes.
With that, about ten minutes passed easily before her brain decided to work properly and it finally clicked — in front of her, with short dirty blond hair styled in a side part all messed up, and dark fierce eyes. He was wearing casual attire; some baggy dark blue jeans, a random white tee with a sweatshirt over it.
