Mꄲꄲ꒯ ꄲꊰ ꓄ꁝꏂ ꅐꄲꋪL꒯

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      Your eyes felt heavy with haze as you began to drift out of the sleep that the night before had held.

The golden rays of faint sun twinkled in through the small window that sat high on the cream-colored wall.

You turned over with a groan as you held your face against the smoothed fabric of the owl patterned sheets that still had his scent to them.

At first, that scent, masked of smoke and the tallest pine trees, like the ones you used to cut done for Christmas. Except for his scent, it was like the tree was on fire, like the batch was up in flames, like the thousands and small green needles were disappearing after the other as they soon turned black, and then the tree looked lifeless, dead, and charcoaled.

It was your dad's room, his scent and he would never get it back, after all, it was all being sold by your mother.

Right, today is the day. You groaned sarcastically in your mind as you rolled over on your back, your eyes flickering up to the cracked white ceiling.

It had only been a few days since he was taken away since he was out under custody after the court ruled him a life sentence, he was basically dead to you now, after all, you wouldn't even be even close to the state prison once you got on that flight.

At least your mom let you live a couple of days on your own, but still, she didn't think you were capable enough to live on your own or to provide for yourself. Now you had no choice but to move to Forks, Washington to live with her, to live with Karissa in wherever this place even existed.

The last you wanted to do was leave the very place where you grew up most of your life, but then again maybe it would be easier, fewer memories, but where you were going wasn't better, after all now you would have to live with her.

You slid out of bed as you could feel the endless knots in your hair as you raised your arms lifelessly to stretch before you overcame a yawn, the air warm and muggy, after all, it was the fall in the city.

There was the sound of distant traffic out in the hallway that the apartment sat above, and at night if you gazed over out the window you could see all the same little lights, zooming here and there, and all you could wonder is what their stories were, where they were going, and where they would end up.

Your eyes still felt like night as you traced your finger slightly against the aged walls, your feet walking against the colder hardwood of the floor, that had a few scratches in it, those scratches... who knew what they were even from after all your dad had this apartment from even before you were born.

You stumbled your way out the door and down the hall to what was your room, but it wouldn't be for much longer. On your bed sat the suitcases that had once been your father's. Used and tourn from countless business trips. If they were even business strips- he never really said much about that, where he was young, where he was going, or when he would be back. You didn't even want to think about that anymore because at this point the possibilities of where he used to go are endless.

You stepped towards the painted white wooden dresser that had small hand-painted flowers on them, long green ti stems, and bright pink petals, you had painted them yourself when your parents had first gotten divorced, no one noticed when you did anyways.

You would have to say goodbye to that dresser now though, the chips in the side from rough play, the countless times you had rearranged your close, to the broken drawer at the bottom, that often;y came off its squeaky metal tracks.

You slid open the top drawer first before you grasped the variety of colors of clothes in it, and without even looking at what you touched you just chucked them over into the nearest suitcase, the black leather was chipping off slowly.

Edward Cullen x Reader~𝑭𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒂𝒓𝒎𝒔Where stories live. Discover now