[ The Mortal World— ]
"You're not going!"
Aunt Grace's voice snapped through the thin walls like a whip, loud and angry. This is the mayhem's neighborhood, a hood where people who usually, are not sorry for any of their actions base in.
Ava is a teenager who only wanted nothing but freedom. Little did she know that freedom comes with a price.
"Urgh...Right" Ava hummed, she didn't flinch. She was used to it— used to the controlling tone, the disapproving stare, the never-ending reminders that Grace had "saved" her.
She stared at her reflection in the mirror.
Short black crop top. Check.
Mini skirt that barely obeyed gravity. Double check.
The look said "grown and dangerous," even though deep down she still felt like a girl playing dress-up in pain.
"Ava, did you hear me?" Grace called again.
Ava sighed, applying a final stroke of eyeliner. "Yes, Grace. And I don't care."
"It's not safe. You don't even know who'll be there. You're not even supposed to be drinking."
