Hey, gurls!
So, I realized that I didn't put an author note before the last chapter. Oops.
Anywhoo, let's keep going, shall we?
*Kirstie POV*
I looked up at the ceiling, feeling myself begin to float off into space.
I normally tried to fight it, but tonight, I was tired.
It had been a long day, and Dad had come home mad.
Then again, he always came home mad.
I closed my eyes, trying not to focus too much on the pain, and I drifted away...
☆☆☆☆☆☆
I woke up the next morning, a smile on my face, as always.
My smile vanished, however, when I came downstairs and I saw Mom waiting for me.
"Kirsten Taylor Maldonado!" she said, and I flinched. Usually, that tone meant something bad.
"Y-yes?" I asked carefully.
Instead of answering, she gestured behind her.
What I saw made me gasp.
In the center of the living room, there were several shards of glass, along with a few flowers.
I remembered seeing those flowers before...
But where had they been before?
"Mom?" I asked, "what's going on?"
"You know perfectly well what's going on, young lady!" she snapped, and I gasped as she hit me hard across the face.
I backed away from her, tearing up a little at the pain.
Then I noticed that the broken glass had been placed in a specific way, forming a message:
Touch her again, and you will be sorry.
A/N: Right, that's definitely not ominous at all.
But there's a reason for this: I also read that her condition comes with a bit of a split personality.
So... yah. They're dealing with a ticked off alter ego.
ANYWAY, what did y'all think? (I hope it wasn't too bad.
Luv you all! *blows kisses*
YOU ARE READING
Heathens
Разное"All my friends are heathens. Take it slow. Wait for them to ask you who you know. Please don't make any sudden moves. You don't know the half of the abuse." Welcome to the Westward Mental Facility, where they keep all the 'crazy' people. Among them...
