blurred lines in a forbidden fairytale

{12} haunted

Aurora's POV:

By the time I leave the hospital, the sky has already faded into that soft gray of early evening. I don't know why I stayed as long as I did, sitting in that empty waiting room with nothing but my thoughts and the sound of my own breathing. Maybe I was hoping she'd change her mind, come out, and say something different. But she didn't.

I catch a bus back home, staring out the window as the city blurs by. Everything feels surreal—like I'm watching my life from the outside. My school was a crime scene today. People died. But here I am, riding a bus like it's just another day.

When I step off the bus, the sky's darkening into a deep blue, the kind that hangs between day and night. Streetlights blink on, casting long, yellow shadows over the cracked sidewalk. I keep my head down as I walk, shoulders hunched, hands shoved deep into my jacket pockets. The weight of everything presses down on me, and I feel like I'm about to snap.

I keep seeing it—Ms. Swift's face, pale and frightened, the way she looked when she told me to leave. To go. After everything, she pushed me away like I was the problem. Like she didn't want me there. It's like a knife in my gut every time I think about it, and I can't shake the anger. She kissed me, and then she told me to leave.

By the time I reach my block, I'm practically seething, my jaw clenched tight. It's like there's a war inside me—part of me wants to scream at her, to tell her she can't just mess with my head like that. The other part just aches, because I for the first time I thought someone actually cared about me which turned out to be just another lie.

I shove my way into the house, the door creaking as I slam it shut behind me. The smell of old takeout hits me immediately, and I catch the sound of the TV blaring from the living room. It's like stepping back into another world—one that hasn't changed a bit while everything else outside went to hell.

I drop my bag by the door and step into the living room, and there they are—my mom and dad, glued to their spots on the couch. Alyssa is nowhere to be seen. My dad's flipping through channels like he's looking for something that'll finally hold his attention, while my mom's hunched over her phone, scrolling through her feed like it's the most important thing in the world.

"Hey," I say, trying to keep my voice steady, even though I feel like a live wire. "There was a shooting at school."

My dad barely glances up. "What?"

"There was a shooting at school," I repeat, louder this time, like maybe if I say it with enough force, it'll actually matter to them.

"Oh, right, yeah, saw something about that on the news," he says, eyes still on the screen. "Crazy stuff."

My mom's eyes flicker up for a brief second, and there's this moment where I think—hope—that she's actually going to care, to show some kind of emotion. But then she just shrugs. "Are you okay?"

Her voice is so flat, so indifferent, that it feels like a slap. I bite the inside of my cheek, fighting back the tears stinging at the corners of my eyes. "Yeah, I'm fine," I lie. "People died, though."

My dad's still focused on the TV, like the words barely registered. "Well, you weren't one of them, so that's good."

"Seriously?" I snap, my voice rising. "Is that all you've got to say? Kids died. I watched—" I stop myself, my voice cracking as I think of Ms. Swift on the floor, bleeding. "I watched my teacher get shot, her blood seeping through my fingers..."

My mom sighs, like I'm being dramatic. "Aurora, don't get involved in stuff like that. You know it's dangerous."

"Involved?" I repeat, incredulous. "I was there. I didn't have a choice. We were all just trying to stay alive."