Chapter 2|Dear Daddio

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You walked down the familiar cul-de-sac, messenger bag slung across your torso swaying in sync with your hips as you skipped down the curved sidewalk.

Fried chicken swinging in one hand as you jammed out to your music on the highest possible volume setting. Head bopping to the beat as the corners of your lips lifted upwards to your fav song playing. Briefly, your attention turned to wave at your elderly neighbor, Mrs. Clinton, who had come out of her house to relax on this refreshingly windy evening before turning back and watching the darkening skies.

The wind picked up and your hair was lifted further, bouncing as you continued down the path and shut your eyes to take the peaceful aura all in. What a relaxing afternoon.

As the dried mud that decorated the side of your face from your earlier encounter crumbled, you whipped your head back forward only to groan as a sharp pain shook your skull.

Stumbling back suddenly in utter pain, you hissed. Feeling your face begin to throb in sharp waves, your eye began tearing up as you brought your (s/c) hand to feel the damage.

You being the dumbass you are ran SMACK into a light pole. 

"Fuck! It hurts!" you whined.

No duh, genius.

Massaging your left eye, which seemed hard to open, you take out a small mirror and see a little swelling through the blurred vision.

Great. Now all I need is for this to turn into a cute black eye and stay that way seeing as dad won't let me use my quirk now that I fucked up big time with those kidnappers. As if my headache from before wasn't enough.

Sniffling a little and finding your balance once more, you leisurely walked to your house. The soft smacking of flip-flops against the concrete followed by a smack of a door lock harshly clicking into place alerting you that you'd be the talk of the street for a while.

Plus you didn't wanna face your dear ol' pops and won't be able to see normally from your left eye for a while.

Usually, you wouldn't care too much but your junior high graduation was coming real soon and you really caused unnecessary damage to those guys.

"Goodnight to you too." You commented as you, now more calmly, walked down the remaining ill cared for yards to your own, worse cared for yard.

Overgrown grass completely covered any dirt around, a broken flamingo statue in the corner of the yard- neck snapped from the dog of some people a couple of houses down getting loose about a week ago and fucking that poor bird up. 

A really dirty and creepy looking gnome that stared at you as you entered the faded white picket fence and the right of the yard having a weird ash grey stain where the grass looked absolutely deceased. Not to mention that the place was littered with trash from the neighbors next door declaring your yard as their personal dump site.

And before you try to scold yourself, yes, a million and one times yes, you have tried to clean it out and ask the neighbors to stop being a dick and use their three other full-sized garbage bins but some weird ghost seems to keep the yard full.

You also have tried to cleanse the yard of the ghost but this is no weak opponent. Even the cheap witch down Maine Street hasn't ever seen anything like this. She mentioned it was pretty strong and so she was out, after all, she was "cheap" and "a ripoff"- her words, not mine.

Closing the fence gate behind you, the groan of the hinges following suit, you latched it closed for the night and struggled to not step on some mushy shit that woulda definitely got ya an 'A' as your science project. As you made it to the doorway, fishing for the keys and still massaging your eye, you felt something warm drip onto your silk sweatpants and sighed.

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