✞𝐂𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐜𝐡 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥✞[𝐵𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝐺𝑖𝑟𝑙♡𝑀𝑖𝑥𝑒𝑑 𝐵𝑜𝑦]™

[𝟕]

𝐷𝑜𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑖𝑐'𝑠 𝑃𝑂𝑉

"Are you having nightmares again?" Arlene asked.

"Yes." I sat up in the couch. My eyes never left the floor.

"When?"

"La-last...night."

"Exactly the same way?

"...Yes." My knee bounced in anxiety and I started clenching my jaw. "The voices were the same, the people were the same." My knee bounced even faster and my fingers fidgeted."The walls were the same, the floor was the same, the gunsh-"

"Domonic!"

I stopped. I brought my head up slowly and stared at her.

She had a face of worry.

I lost myself again. I slowly looked back on the floor.

"Same words Domonic?"

I nodded."It just keeps replaying over and over..and over..and over..in my head." I put a hand on my head. "I want it to stop Arlene."

I stared desperately at her with tears in my eyes. "I want to stop hurting."

She passed me a tissue. "Do you know what could've triggered the nightmares?"

"I didn't have...my scheduled 9pm text with Angel." I looked away shyly and patted my wet cheeks.

"Oh. A schedule?" She scribbled.

"Yes." I smiled softly. "We talk..a lot."

"What do you guys talk about?"

"Elementary sch-school a-and sometimes anything that comes to mind."

She shifted in her seat.

"And her mom." I got mad at the thought of her.

"Her mom? What about her?"

"She...keeps pressuring Angel.." I said slowly with dramatic hand movements. "Forcing her a-and degrading her. How do you hurt someone like Angel? How do you have the-the heart to do that to your own d-daughter?" I was passionate about this.

"Just like your father, right Domonic?" She tapped the pen on the notepad.

I froze at the word father.

"From what I'm gathering, you're not only having nightmares because of not talking to Angel, but also because of her mother. In a way, her mother reminds you of your fathe-"

"Don't call him that!" I hit the empty space beside me on the couch.

She made a sound in surprise.

"If he was my fa-ther.. he wouldn't h-have beat me. He wouldn't have beat my mother till her eyes we-were swollen and couldn't s-see, then proceed to sh-shoot her in the head." My voice was shaky and my hands trembled. "Right infront of m-me. Would a father aim his gun at his son, and shoot him in attempt to k-kill?"

I rubbed the scar hidden behind my ear. "I'm leaving."

I got up and left the room.

○

𝖠𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗅'𝗌 𝖯𝖮𝖵

"This dress would look so good on you." My mom stood over my shoulder as I surfed the internet for a prom dress.

I frowned at the dress. It was one of those dresses that were super poofy and big for no reason, I didn't really like it.