Nothing stings quite like venomous words spat by the people you love… or so Lory thought.
Another day, another life. So mundane, with too much to do and too little courage to confront any of it—
"Lory! Get your ass up, now!"
Before she could finish her theatrical inner monologue, her mother's voice thundered through the hallway. Lory mourned the loss of her warm cocoon as she rolled out of bed, nearly tripping over her own foot.
It wasn't wrong to say she wasn't a morning person. She wasn't a night owl either. Somehow she managed to sleep late and wake early—a habit she couldn't, and frankly wouldn't, break.
Dragging herself through her routine, she felt the familiar pessimism settle in. Another day of long lectures and professors who could bore a rock to tears.
"Ma! Is the coffee ready?"
She yelled down the hall as she headed downstairs, clinging to the hope that caffeine might revive her will to care.
"Mm. Should I call an optometrist to check if those eyes of yours work? Because it seems they don't," her mother shot back, dripping with sarcasm.
What a pain in the ass, Lory thought, irritation already simmering at her mother's constant jabs.
She sighed and headed into the kitchen to chug her coffee, desperate for a quick fix. "Wait, it's still—" her mother began, but Lory had already taken a full gulp. She spat it out instantly, her mouth stinging and her will to face the day evaporating with the steam.
"—hot," her mother finished with a snort. "I'm heading to work. Don't be late for school. If you need anything, use my card—but don't waste it on things you don't need."
She walked out of the kitchen, grabbed her keys, and left, the door slamming shut behind her.
Lory's gaze stayed fixed on the door, her expression blank. The burn in her mouth lingered, but it was nothing compared to the familiar ache settling in—the quiet, heavy sting of being alone again.
It was nothing new. Lory knew her mother well enough to understand she'd never get the time of day from her. At least it's not the same old routine, she muttered, slinging her schoolbag over her shoulder before locking the door behind her.
As she walked down the street, she couldn't help but take in the scene—if only to remind herself how little it ever changed. To her, it was… shitty. A shitty street filled with shitty people living shitty lives. That was the conclusion she'd reached long ago.
And honestly, she didn't think she was wrong for feeling that way. Growing up in a ghetto neighborhood—where the men strutted around like they owned the pavement and the women flaunted themselves like treasures—was a constant reminder of the reality she lived in. Her reality.
Before she could start overthinking again, she plugged in her headphones and let classical music flood her ears as she crossed into the next block. Lory hummed along with the melody, putting distance between herself and the world—an easy way to eliminate any chance of unwanted socializing.
Wrapped in her own soundtrack, she didn't notice anything around her. Not the shouts from behind. Not the blaring horn of a truck urging her to move. Nothing.
By the time she sensed something was wrong, her vision was already darkening, her consciousness slipping away like a light being switched off—thoughts collapsing in on themselves.
Nope… this definitely hurts more—
And then everything folded into silence.