Different genres of Fadie short stories.
Genuinely dedicated this book for Finn Wolfhard and Sadie Sink. They both had inspired me to write these short stories based on different themes. This book contained various collections of Finn Wolfhard and...
Inspired by Casper, the friendly ghost but more intense.
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Sadie Sink normally wasn't one for hanging around in bars or dance clubs.
Tonight, though, she just had to get away from her home, away from her family's increasingly-common questions about her future and when she was going to settle down, away from her memories...away from that constant cloud of loneliness that seemed to follow her around as of late.
It was because of that, and other reasons, that she found herself perched on the last barstool, the one nestled right against the wall, absently swirling a half-empty drink (the latest of...several) around her hand and watching everyone else enjoying themselves.
The DJ was working his magic, and the night was in full swing. The dance floor was relatively crowded. People—most of whom appeared to be in their early twenties—were swaying and moving out there in ways that ranged from ridiculous to smooth to outright provocative. But one thing was painfully clear: every single one of them seemed to have a partner.
Sadie sighed; she was sick of watching them.
Her gaze dropped back down into her glass. The liquid that stared back at her was the color of dying embers, and tasted as bitter as she felt. This was torture. She didn't to stay at home alone to just wallow like that, but being here was like rubbing a mountain of salt all over a freshly-cut wound.
Wincing at the expected taste, she gripped the glass in white-knuckled fingers and brought it to her lips, tossing her head back to finish the last few swallows off all at once. It burned her throat painfully, and with a gasp she slammed the glass back down on the bar a bit harder than she'd intended. She took a few quick breaths, trying to force air down into lungs that suddenly didn't want to cooperate.
What was she doing here?
Why was she doing this to herself?
At home or out in public, she was still alone.
It had been this way since...
Without warning, the DJ's voice echoed loudly over the milling crowd and the cheers of the dancers.
"LAST DANCE!" the DJ announced cheerfully to a chorus of disappointed groans from his audience.
"Grab your favorite partner!"
Sadie jumped in surprise; it was fortunate that the glass in her hand was now empty; else she probably would have sloshed it all over the polished surface of the bar. A slow melody began to play over the speakers, prompting everyone to rush and pair up, most likely with their significant others, and start swaying back and forth to the easy rhythm of the slow song—a love song.
Still sitting solo at the bar, Sadie bit her lip to try and keep from crying, but it was a foregone conclusion. She put her hands down on the bar and lowered her forehead to rest on her fingers. This had to be what it felt like to hit rock bottom.
