[COMPLETED BUT WONT LET ME PRESS THE COMPLETED BUTTON AHAHHA]
Aurora Lockheart was once the sunshine girl-bright, kind, and full of life. But one night changed everything, leaving her a shadow of who she used to be.
A year later, just as she's be...
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I lay there in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, but my mind wouldn't shut off. Thoughts kept racing, twisting and turning like they were trying to suffocate me. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stop thinking about what had happened earlier. Her face, pale and shattered, kept flashing in front of my eyes. The pictures. The laughter. The cruel mocking voices.
I needed to know who had done this to her. Why? What kind of person could do something so vile, so brutal? Aurora didn't deserve any of it. No one did.
I'd sent her a message earlier, something quick and simple. Just letting her know I was here, that I loved her, and that I'd be waiting for her whenever she was ready to talk. But even as I hit 'send,' I could feel this weight in my chest, this terrible fear gnawing at me. What if she didn't respond? What if this was too much for her?
I was scared. Really scared.
The pictures—they were burned into my mind, seared there like a scar I couldn't shake. Every time I closed my eyes, I could see them. The way they'd scrawled those ugly words across her image, like they wanted to strip her down, humiliate her, break her.
"Slut." "The real 'Queen of Hearts.'" "Whore." "Mistake."
It made me sick. My stomach twisted every time the words surfaced, bile rising in my throat. How could anyone be so cruel? Aurora was one of the kindest people I knew, and yet, they'd turned her into a target, ripping apart everything she was.
I turned my head and looked at the bag lying on the floor by my bed. Her bag. She'd forgotten it in the chaos of everything, and I'd brought it home with me. Just looking at it made my heart ache. It was like a piece of her was here, in this room, but she was so far away, closed off, unreachable. I didn't know what was going through her head right now, and that terrified me more than anything.
What if she felt like those horrible words were true? What if she believed them?
I sat up, unable to just lie there anymore. My body felt restless, my mind buzzing. I wanted to do something, fix this somehow, but I felt powerless. All I could do was wait, and hope that she knew she wasn't alone in this.
I ran my hands through my hair, fighting the urge to scream, to punch something. Instead, I stared at the bag, willing it to give me some kind of answer, some kind of sign. Something to tell me she'd be okay.
But there was nothing. Just silence. And the weight of everything pressing down on me like I was drowning in it.
