𝐑𝐮𝐧 ✯JJ Maybank

𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫 || 𝐈 𝐑𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠

✯♛✯

𝐀𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 point, Francine was beginning to question everything in her life. After she had 'cleared everything up' with her mother, the woman had basically kicked the teenager out of her house. She said it was because the dark-haired girl needed to get out more, but Francine didn't believe the bullshit her mother was throwing at her. She didn't question her though, she was going to leave it up to Christopher to speak to the woman.

     Francine was currently wandering around town, not knowing what to do or where to go. Sarah was probably busy, she told Francine that she had the stuff to do on that day for her parents. The dark-haired girl didn't want to bother her, so she decided to go for a walk around the island. Aimlessly wandering around until she thought it was the right time to go back home. She didn't mind walking through, it helped her think things over and clear her mind.

As the girl was wandering around, she observed the damage done by the hurricane. Most of the places and buildings on Figure Eight were already getting back to the normal looks, but the Cut was a whole different story. Since most of the people living on the south side of town were working two jobs and were barely home anyways, they probably didn't have much time to clean their land. So that left the place looking like a shantytown. There was one place on the Cut that always looked like a storm had struck, that was what Francine would like to call Crackland. It was where all the druggies and drug dealers lived.

The girl's wandering was cut off after she passed a familiar house while she was on the poor side of town. She immediately stopped in her tracks after seeing the small, nearly run down, one-story house. She cracked a sad smile at the sight of the building, that place being her home for most of her life. It looked different from the last time she was there, three years ago. The family never sold the house, so it was another one of those abandoned houses on every street.

The years of neglect made the whole property look eerie, the paint chipping off the siding. Francine stepped onto the gravel driveway, making her way around the house to see the backyard. The garden that used to be full of colorful flowers was dull and dead, only filled with overgrown weeds. There were branches and leaves littering the property, probably caused by hurricane Agatha and other storms over the years.

Francine frowned as her eyes caught her old playhouse, it was almost hidden by the trees and bushes surrounding it. It was a small shack her father built her when she was six years old. Her and the gang used to hang out there when they weren't in the Chateau, John B's house. She approached the door, not knowing what could be in there, she never used to lock the playhouse. The door was always unlocked, if her family was asleep and the house door was locked, her friends would stay in there if they ever got into trouble. They were always welcome at the Castle home.   

She pulled up the small wooden block that was barring the door shut, the hinges creaked as she pulled it open. Francine let out a cough as she breathed in the dust and stale smell of the small shack. She ducked under the door, it being small since it was made for a child. She turned on the flashlight on her phone to help her see.

Francine glanced around at the place which looked almost identical as it did three years ago. Small drawings littered the walls, she let out an airy laugh as she picked up a polaroid picture that had dropped on the bunk of the shack. The picture consisted of 12 years old her and JJ at the beach, he had a large goofy grin on his face, looking at the camera. Francine was on his back resting her head on his, laughing. Her father was probably taking the picture because he had brought the polaroid camera everywhere they went. He was a photographer after all. Francine wiped off the dust coating the picture, remembering that day very well.

Her mother and father brought the two kids swimming, trying to cheer JJ up. The blonde had stayed over to their house the night before, his dad yelled at him again so he ran to the first place he thought of. That happened often, he was either there for weeks with a packed bag when his dad would disappear or he would show up randomly, usually late at night. Either way, they would welcome him with open arms.