Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
𝗡𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗠𝗕𝗘𝗥 𝟮𝟰, 𝟮𝟬𝟬𝟱 𝖭𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖺'𝗌 𝖯𝖮𝖵
𝐀𝐒 𝐈 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌 𝐌𝐈𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑 of the run-down motel, meticulously combing through my hair, I couldn't help but ponder our current predicament. We had been holed up for the past few days, desperate for respite before finding our next job, and still the search for John and Issac seemed to be growing colder with each passing day. My gaze, transfixed, shifted to the scar etched upon my shoulder, its presence vividly reflected in the mirror's glass. Adjusting the strap of my pajama top, my intent was to obtain a clearer view.
Unchanged since that fateful night when Issac had triggered it, the scar remained a haunting reminder. With utmost care, I tentatively placed my cold fingertips upon the crimson veins, tracing the uneven surface. The icy touch of my skin against the scar brought an inexplicable solace, as if my touch could extinguish the inferno raging within me. Allowing the strap of my tank top to slip from my shoulder, I unveiled more of the scar's haunting contours. Glancing at the makeup adorning the sink's edge, my eyes fixated on the blending sponge, while I poured a dollop of foundation onto my palm. The time had come to conceal this terrifying memento, a constant reminder of the horrors I had endured.
