Hello! I'm sorry so so sorry for not writing sooner! This is just to inform you that: I have changed a few things in the last chapter. Please, go read it or this won't make any sense!
As always enjoy!
Sincerely, Rainy-day!
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The Women towered over me with a solemn look occupying her slumped in face, her homely sweater a knotty guise.
"You have a visitor," she whispered portentously.
I flash her my gaze as I continue to pick at my Lavender bedspread that my mother had graciously bestowed upon my new domain. My contemporary, mandatory, and estranged new dwelling.
At least there are no more chains.
"A visitor? You mean a pubescent teen that happened to be high enough?" I inquired.
She cast me a brisk glance before she cut past Abarrrane's mattress.
"You better go, Rowen. Don't want to miss your only chance to get out of SpringWood."
A/N- SpringWood is from the horror movie, A Nightmare On Elm Street.
I cast Abarrane a vexed look before I whirl to face my Bollentin Board, walking my fingers along the crisp edges along with the frozen memory of my Mother and I, the memory was tender to the bruised tip of my vein.
I left my mind to amble through the path that was dotted with the remnants of shattered connections.
If I could desert my schizophrenia for only a swift moment, I'd finish that race, I trace that track, dig that grave. There was no exception.
"Rowen, you here?" I snapped my neck at the familiar ring of melody and comfort the voice used to coat me in. It stuck to me, melting off me like honey.
A hand came only to glance across my shoulder, the supply and balmy skin occupied my shoulder with solace. It was the putrid feel that hitched in my stomach then. pulling me to turn and face the one responsible for the foul, gut-wrenchingly, and revoltingly soft graze.
My Father.
He stood pulling back, along with his hand, his shoulders with an egotistical, agonizing, snigger.
"Never surprised to see you here, Row."
"The feelings are reciprocated, David," I spoke broodingly. "Though you should know, that's a pretty lil' thing you got hanging on your wrist. Catch a pretty price around here." I said suggestively eyeing the Roger Dubuis that hung off his wrist, dripping in gold.
"I got taste. You would have learned your Father's trick of the trade if you hadn't been spending so much time in here." He smirked as he glanced in his surroundings.
"Well, you never did falter in your faith, you sure taught me to be one hell of an ass," I said mustering up the remnants of sly.
"Rowen, mind your tongue." He said passively, flicking his hand to my chin.
"David, honestly, go home," I stated.
"Oh, you thought I was here for you?" He inquired, chuckling.
"No, dumb ass, when are you ever?"
"Never, but I take a guess you already knew that."
"I guess I did."
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Hey, sorry I haven't updated in a while! A/N- Again, I must remind you that I changed some of the main points of the story in chapter 4! It explains why she's here lol. Also, I'm very conflicted as to where to go with this story! Any comments or suggestions would be great!
As always, Enjoy!
Sincerely, Rainy-day!
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David ensphered my bed only to anchor alongside my Bulletin Board, tracing the memories that were morphed from a planet to a small rectangle with a sheen gloss, a consolation prize.
"I remember this . . . You weren't phsyco yet if I remember correctly?" He uttered.
I ran my cleft nails through my fringe of static and a blow a puff of air.
"Devi sempre essere cosi dolorante?" I heaved.
"What?" My Father inquired.
"It's Italian. Google Translate it, Cagna."
"Wha-"
"Google Translate it," I smirked, Hoisting my head upon my fisted knuckles.
"You know, just because you still jerk off to Marilyn Monroe doesn't mean I'm going to respect you, right?" I inquired.
He smirked with a reluctant, faltering wink.
YOU ARE READING
The Mug Shot That Ruined Me.
RomanceI didn't mean to sneak out with the Mayors son. I didn't mean to get arrested. I didn't mean to meet him in jail!
