❝I hurt people;
especially pretty girls like you ❞
In which an innocent but broken girl foxtrots with insanity.
And the music only stops when a demented man says so.
➳
Criminal psychology student...
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"..And clearly, the perpetrator's postoffense behavior in this case indicates he's likely a sex offender. So not only do we now have the perp's race and age range, but also the possibility of him being in the criminal database."
There was something very deferential about the way Professor Turner conducted herself. It always had been. Whether it was her no-nonsense attitude with students and professors alike, or her hardheaded but sardonic persona; The very air that surrounded the 40 year old woman magnetically commanded everybody's respect and attention.
Today however, was rather different, for the centre of attention in the hall happened to be none other than a certain girl.
All eyes lingered on her, the girl who survived a serial killer.
She, although not completely oblivious to the hushed whispers and incredulous stares, was a million miles away from the class.
Her weary pair of tawny eyes were fixated on one of the windows, peering at the thin layer of milky snow that covered the terrain outside.
This was the first class Tahlia Meyers was attending ever since being discharged by the hospital three weeks ago.
Three complete weeks of living in perpetual dread, restless, constantly looking over her shoulder. Even with the tightening of security and police protection at the campus, and having her change dorms was nearly not enough a solace as the authorities reassured her it would be.
The first fifteen days proved to be the most grim and difficult. Between the terrible fits of anxiety and nasty paranoia, Tahlia had almost lost all sense of normal functioning. She'd wake up at night often, panting, with an overwhelming instinct of scrubbing and wiping at her hands. She saw blood. Blood that not all the perfumes of Arabia and Neptune's oceans could fade away.
For nineteen days since her return, she didn't dare leave her room.
Partly because she wasn't sure if she could handle all the unwarranted attention, yes, and partly because the local press was practically camping outside the uni to get her statement or exclusive photos. She was, after all, the only victim of the Westfield Ripper to have lived to see another day.
It was finally on the twentieth day that Tahlia Faith Meyers finally mustered up the courage to get out of her dorm and come to class.
Unfortunately, it was nearly not as easy as she'd chalked it up to be.
She could barely pay any attention to a single word that left Turner's mouth, let alone handle all the curious looks and whispers with how foggy and overwhelmed her mind was. So she zoned out, vacantly looking at the snow.
Some say the world will end in fire, Some say in ice.
"Psst."
She whisked her neck around, her eyes met with the sight of a bright-eyed blonde boy by her side, extending his phone out towards her part of the desk. A gif of a cat comically jumping down from a fridge played on the screen. Her gaze shifted from the phone, to Jace's eyes, noting how ecstatic he was to show her the funny gif.
