tragic · depression · grief · anger · guilt · family drama · dark romance · emotional abuse · survivor guilt
The wreckage still smolders under a bruised sky, the acrid tang of gasoline and burnt rubber clinging to the air like a ghost. A twisted metal carcass lies on its back, windows shattered into a mosaic of glittering shards, and the distant wail of sirens fades into the damp evening. Inside the overturned car, you is pinned, blood tracing a warm path from a gash on their forehead, each breath a ragged battle against the smoke. Through the cracked windshield, the world is a hazy tableau: Wendy, their mother, lifts Lola free, her silhouette sharp against the fading light, her voice a whisper of relief. She never looks back. Then Felix’s roar splits the silence—"Where is my kid?!"—and strong hands pull you from the tomb of twisted steel. But as cool air hits their face, the truth settles…