#should i call her noname or something sjdjhs
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juststayquiete · 1 year ago
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She never was religious but kinda liked Padre's God. It was a merciful but cruel creature. She wondered if this God would forgive her sins, would find her deeds as something natural instead of unforgivable. Sometimes, when the nights were especially mute and heavy, she even prayed - not for forgiveness but for helping her find the truth.
***
The windows of the car were slightly opened but the air was so hot that the wind didn’t bring any comfort. She hated the heat, the way her hair was sticking to her sweaty forehead and her shirt was clinging to her spine. She was sitting in the front seat like it was some kind of the privilege but the view was always the same - the endless Wasteland, the constant dust and sand, their family's cars are before and behind them. Babushka refused to turn on the radio in the car and they were riding in complete silence every freaking time. She never knew what to talk about with Babushka - they were together almost all the time, everything that could be discussed was already discussed, and it wasn’t like Babushka cared about her and Ari’s personal lives that much. In the end the road was the personal torture for her - she was sitting, unmoving and unspeaking, while losing her mind out of boredom. She turned around to look at Ari who was peacefully sleeping, lying along all backseats. At least someone was happy in this car.
- Will mom call you tomorrow? - Babushka broke the silence so suddenly she almost flinched.
- Ah, right, I forgot to tell you, the last time she said she’s leaving somewhere, don’t remember where, for three weeks and she doesn’t know if she’ll be able to call.
Babushka scoffed but didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to - their mother dropped two kids on her own mother and left to live her life without any burdens. So to say, their mother being a cunt was a well-known fact even though Babushka never told it in words. 
She turned around to look at Ari again. The cheek she was laying on was squished in a funny way, her favorite plush bunny was tightly clutched to her chest. 
She blinked and out of nowhere there was blood. It was flowing out of Ari’s throat but the slash wasn’t visible because of the toy’s head. In a moment the pool of blood was so big it started to overflow the seat and spill on the floor. 
She trembled but didn’t startle. Her lungs were squeezed and she couldn’t breath but she didn’t look away. Ari’s slack face was starting to pale, the bunny fell from her limb arms. The wound on the throat showed up - and she remembered that cut as if she inflicted it just yesterday. The skin was opened up, the meat was glistening in the rays of the sun that were coming through the windows, the blood was leaving her body in the pulsating streaks. 
She knew it was a dream and she felt it fading away but she didn’t look away. Her sister never appeared in her dreams as an adult despite being nineteen when she was killed. Nevertheless, she was greedily trying to make the image of Ari’s face stuck on the inside of her eyelids. And then she was violently pulled out in reality.
She couldn’t even cry when she realised she doesn’t remember shit from her dream besides the ocean of blood. 
She couldn’t get rid of the metallic taste in her mouth for hours, the cigs and the liquor being no help at all and only lace bringing her much awaited oblivion. 
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