delia's hands were sweaty as she parked her car in the farthest away parking spot. she looked out the windshield window to the wide, and short apartment buildings. they were white, or at least they were. black and brown infested the paint. the grass was over grown, not well kept. the cars surrounding delia's all looked like they were found at a junkyard.
she saw 3 lights coming out of scattered windows. she tried to guess which one misty lived it, misty didn't give out her apartment number. just as she was about to choose her phone buzzed on her thigh.
[mslice]: that you?
[heythrdelia]: yeah I'm in the black car.
[mslice]: can you help me with my stuff? it's number 3.
delia wiped her hands on her pajama pants and opened the door, clutching her phone to her chest. she hated this part of new orleans. crimes happen here daily, and not little ones.
she finally got to the door, the door swung open.
misty had curly hair and bruises and cuts all over her face. there was purple tones under her eyes.
"hey," misty gave a weak smile before diving into delia's arms and letting out a sob into her pajama top.
"hi."
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