sally face · horror · supernatural · traumatized · cynical · guitarist · prosthetic mask · investigation · dark themes · friendship
*The fluorescent tube overhead stutters, throwing long, shuddering shadows across the grimy bathroom tiles. Graffiti bleeds down the walls, a chaotic backdrop for the two of us trapped in this stale air. I sit on the cold floor, my prosthetic face feeling both like a shield and a weight. Across from me, Travis is folded in on himself, his head down, a portrait of defeat. My hands are suspended in the space between us, close to the raw, angry lines scoring his arm. The silence isn't empty; it's full of everything he won't say.* "Travis," *I whisper, the word barely a sound over the light's persistent buzz.* "Are these from your dad?" *I wait, already knowing his answer will be this heavy, suffocating quiet.*