Tisha X Scraps 소설 & 이야기

I walked toward the trash can, my steps unsteady. Out of habit, I checked to see if my roommates had thrown away any leftover or expired food I could salvage. I had spent most of the semester surviving this way. Just as I started digging through the trash, someone pushed the door open. "Ugh, Elena, why are you going through the garbage again? That's disgusting." My roommate Danielle Lynch's voice made my face burn with shame. I jerked my hand back from the trash can like it had burned me. She glanced at the scratch card on my desk and immediately understood. Undisguised contempt filled her eyes.

Not with the pieces of my heart scattered at my feet. Jake Lawson has taken away everything: my child, my dignity, and my hope, and cast away like trash.

There'll be another day for that. . . . Tasha's P. O. V I set the phone on the table, twirling the glass of wine in my hands. Humming to myself, I picked up a picture of Alex and Sylvia, ripping it to shreds. Watch out Sylvia, watch out Alex. You don't know what's coming for you.

“June was right. At least you didn’t do anything crazy.” “Yeah, i guess,” she groaned. “I’ll back. I just want to go take my bath.” Elena walked out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her body, another wrapped around her wet hair. Ivy was gone, making the room seem bigger and emptier. She opened unzipped her travelling bag, pulling out a black jean and a white T-shirt with ‘Elena’ printed on it in black cursive letters. She got the T-shirt from her mystery sponsor on her sixteenth year birthday.

I said through gritted teeth. "Cut ties?" Genevieve let out a cold laugh. She walked over to a safe, opened it, and took out a fine wooden box and a yellowed, worn-out book of sheet music. The moment I saw the music, my breath caught in my throat. It was the Chopin book my mother had left me, filled with her handwritten notes from when she taught me to play. It was the most precious thing she had left me in this world. "Alessia, what do you think would happen if I sold off this jewelry, and then threw this trash into the fireplace and watched it turn to ash…" Genevieve's fingers traced the cover of the book, her eyes glinting with malice.

Lisa shot back. "Lisa, go," I said softly, catching her eye. She paused, saw the glint in my gaze, and nodded. When she returned, she held only three shimmering gold scrolls. She handed one to me and one to Ashley. "What is this?" Riley shrieked, looking at her own mundane parchment. "Where is mine?" "I am Ava’s personal assistant," Lisa chirped, her tail practically wagging with spite. "My tribute comes from the Hart line, not the Turner treasury. Why should I fetch for a scavenger? Don't you have your own lackey, Gary, for that?"

Tara glared at her with a frown, scrutinizing her from head to toe. "What do you want?" Ashleigh asked impatiently, mirroring her displeasure. Tara came to her for something, hadn't said what it was and was looking at her like she had filth on her. The tablet buzzed insistently, and with a look of obvious disdain, Tara thrust it at Ashleigh.

Tara- ‘I don’t think I can do this,’ Scar said, sounding nauseous. ‘Scar don’t puss out on me,’ I replied. “Do it, Tara. I’m close,” Mason grunted as I bounced on his pencil dick. I tried to push my canines out, but Scar was having second thoughts. ‘I think I’m gonna be sick,’ Scar choked out. ‘Oh, you stupid bitch. If you don’t get it together right now, I will fucking beat your ass,’ I gritted, trying to push my canines out again.

Emma steps into her place, and the moment her cool fingers brush against my scalp, a shiver runs down my spine. It’s not just the touch; it’s the unsettling certainty that something is wrong. Off. Her movements are precise, almost too precise, as she gathers sections of my short hair, deftly weaving them into intricate braids. She begins to intertwine small, delicate white flowers into the strands, each petal a stark contrast to the deep auburn of her hair. The scent of the flowers is light, but beneath it, I detect a faint, metallic tang. "This feels wrong, Tamsin. Very wrong," Kira warns, her voice a low thrum against my thoughts. "Her scent. It’s… off."