The Girl in the Attic | Creepypasta x Reader

Chapter 2

Once you were across, you walked up and swung the glass door open, revealing multiple washing machines and dryers.
It wasn't very crowded, only a handful of early birds getting their laundry in before the midday rush.
You walked over to a washing machine and dumped your laundry inside, slamming the hatch shut with your hip as your hand dove inside your bag for money. Once you found the right amount, you inserted the money and turned it on.
You heaved yourself on top of it, your legs dangling in the air as your hand delved back into your bag and pulled out a book.
It was (F/B), stolen from the local library, one of the only books you owned. It was quite long, so it kept you occupied whenever you had a bit of a wait ahead of you. By now, you had read it too many times to count, picking it apart for new vocabulary each time.

After all, you had to teach yourself everything. It wasn't like you had someone there to take care of you.
Since you had been abandoned, you had taught yourself to read and write, utilising the library to your advantage.
A trick you had was finding the audiobook for an actual book, and listening to it while you read. It helped you more than any other way.
Through this method, you had taught yourself enough words to be able to begin reading history, literature and mathematics textbooks, making a little school for yourself.

After an hour, the washing machine beneath you dinged, and you placed your book down so you could hop down and throw everything into the dryer.
When you pulled out your wallet to pay again, you stuck the coins in before taking a look down into it. Jesus. 4 dollars to your name.

'Living in luxury.' You thought to yourself sarcastically, snapping your wallet closed as your gaze grew concentrated.

You stalked your surroundings, examining each person that was in the laundromat for any sign of weakness. You zoned in on a woman sat on a bench, deep in sleep as she waited for her laundry to finish.
Examining the people around her, you began walking up casually as you noticed everyone was either too tired or too distracted to care. That was one of your advantages. Nobody paid attention to the grubby girl with an innocent face, so pickpocketing was a breeze.
Sitting yourself beside the woman, you leant back casually and stared at her laundry moving in the machine to sell the act that you were with her.
Once you were ready, your hand snuck into her bag, quickly curving past each edge and crevice of it for money. Your fingertip grazed over paper, and you recognised the texture as a dollar bill. As quickly as you had snuck it in, you yanked your hand out and examined your price.

Ten dollars. Not enough.

Shoving it in your pocket, your eyes carved the laundromat once again hungrily, your fingers itching for more.
After managing to repeat your act with another sleeping woman and a man on his phone, you began walking back to your own machine. But as you did, your eyes dropped down to a woman's backpocket.
By the grace of god, she had 20 dollars sticking out of it.
It felt like you had been blessed. If you grabbed it, you would have enough money to take care of yourself for the next two weeks.
But you needed to be it quick. Your hand shot out and grabbed it, then you swerved behind some washing machines, and ducked behind the abandoned service desk.
Taking a quick peek out, you noticed the girl was none the wiser, completely entranced by her phone. With a deep, shaky exhale, you stood up and casually walked over to your dryer as it finished just on time.

Once you had collected all your laundry, you carefully folded each item and began placing it into your trashbag once again, then tied it up and slung it over your shoulder.

"Hey, what the fuck-?!"

Taking a glance over your shoulder, you noticed the girl patting her backpocket in confusion, which quickly turned to panic as she looked around the floor, then around the room to find the culprit.