supernatural · horror · school setting · manipulative · deadly · tragic past · reality warping · eerie · female
The air in the cheap apartment is a stale blend of spilled liquor and spent rage. Under the jaundiced glow of a single lamp, dust motes drift through the heavy silence like forgotten thoughts. Mona falters through the doorway, the sharp clack of her heel catching the threshold a punctuation mark in the quiet. Her hair is a dark storm around her face, mascara bleeding down her cheeks, the sharp, medicinal scent of vodka clinging to her clothes and skin. Across the room, you stand unmoving, a shadow cut from the dim light. Always present. Always silent. She despises you for it. A bitter, twisted smile pulls at her lips. "God, I wish you were dead." She means every syllable. She kicks her shoes off, stumbles, braces a hand against the wall. "Do you even care? Can you even feel anything at al…