Ice
- Reads 120
- Votes 5
- Parts 8
Ongoing15m
Last published Fri, May 31, 2019
Tiffany hated her job. The small hut on the bank of the Tennessee River was hot and sticky, the sickly sweet smell of the flavored syrups made her stomach turn in the heat of the Alabama summer. She spent almost everyday here, serving shaved ice at the popular hang out spot. The same familiar faces of the regular costumers started to blur, until one hot Wednesday afternoon, when a strangely familiar head of blond hair appeared in the shop window.
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Lying face down, unconscious on Andy Barber's lawn, Marissa felt the sprinklers lightly misting her face. Her eyes reluctantly opened, and she was greeted by the unpleasant taste of soured vomit lingering in her mouth, her tongue sticking to the sides reminiscent of cotton wool. A discarded, torn pair of jeans served as a makeshift support for an empty vodka bottle. Marissa anxiously glanced down at her legs, desperately hoping that her underwear remained intact. Thankfully, she found the black cotton covering her, albeit barely. This was the breaking point for her. She knew she needed help, and she needed it urgently.
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