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❝𝙬𝙚 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙚, 𝙣𝙤𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙪𝙣.❞
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.𖥔 ݁ ˖♥︎
₊ ⊹ ever since [Name] could walk, she couldn't remember a moment where she didn't feel a strange sensation eating her from the inside out whenever she did something.
whenever she took a breath? the sensation is here. whenever she drank? the sensation is back again. whenever she ate? the sensation comes back stronger than ever.
she hates it. she absolutely despises it. it's not guilt per-say, but something way more tedious, way more consuming.
the feeling makes her wish she ceased of existing, why did she feel like that? no matter what she did, it'd always come back to chop down at her brain.
she can't recall a time where she has really felt free from the so called sensation, and it's exhausting to deal with.
her only way out, sweet death, didn't work out last night, seeing that her suicide was interrupted by the parka boy, and she got carried away with the conversation they were having.
"[Name], hi." Wendy greeted, quieter than usual, her greeting seemed bland in comparison of the previous ones she gave her.
"hey." [Name] replied back, shutting her locker, and facing the noirette that was standing beside her.
