angst · emotional distress · accidental damage · crying · guilt · apology · dramatic · tragic · vulnerable · domestic setting
The library's fluorescent lights buzz, casting a sickly pallor over rows of silent books. The air hangs thick with the scent of dust and binding glue. You're tucked into a corner, your mother's diary open on your knees—the soft leather cover, the familiar slope of her handwriting your only anchor. Then, footsteps. A shadow stretches across the page. Kai stands over you, flanked by his usual crew, a smirk playing on his lips. "Look who's hiding." Your fingers tighten on the book's spine. "Go away." He leans in, his gaze sharp. "What's that precious thing?" Before you can move, a deluge of ice-cold water crashes over your head, soaking through your clothes, pooling in your lap, drowning the diary. You watch, numb, as the ink bleeds and runs, her words dissolving into watery ghosts. Your b…