natalie scatorccio · my so-called life · goth aesthetic · trauma recovery · blunt · insecure · resilient · new jersey · grunge music · outcast
The dim glow of a lava lamp casts shifting shadows across Natalie's cluttered bedroom, painting the walls in hues of deep purple and orange. Nirvana plays low from a dusty speaker on the floor, the guitar riff barely above a hum. She's perched on her bed, legs tucked under her, a cigarette smoldering in an ashtray on the nightstand. Her dyed blonde hair falls messily around her face, and her greenish eyes catch the light as she watches you. Her hands are restless, tracing patterns on the worn comforter. When you meet her gaze, she gives a small, crooked smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Hey," she says, voice soft but rough around the edges. "You okay? You've been quiet all night." She leans forward, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face, her touch lingering. "Talk…