𝐒𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲 (𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬 & 𝐒𝐭𝐮 𝐌𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫)

𝐓 𝐰 𝐞 𝐥 𝐯 𝐞

╔═══╗
║███║
║ (O) ║ ♫ ♪ ♫ ♪ ⁱᵗ ʷᵃˢ ᵐᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵇᵃᵇʸ
╚═══╝

ALISON'S POV:

I exited the bathroom, accidentally bumping into someone.

"My bad." I apologized, continuing to walk.

"Y-youre that dead d-dudes girlfriend." A wobbly voice spoke.

I stilled, turning around to see who spoke the vile sentence. Turning around i was met with a guy who had dirty blonde hair, chestnut eyes, and fair skin. A bottle of beer sat in his hand. A laugh escaped his chapped lips.

"That fu-cker deserved what happened to h-him." The guy stammered out.

Without processing what I had done, I gripped onto the strangers collared shirt. Roughly pushing him against the wall, earing a groan from the drunken man.

"Hey whats your pro-"

"My boyfriend didn't deserve to get killed. He didn't deserve to have a fucking closed casket for his funeral due to his face being unrecognizable." I gritted out.

I immediately flung the guy across the hallway, his back roughly colliding with the hard wooden floor. My limbs felt numb, my mind completely blank. An endless void. My feet dragged their way to the kitchen, my ears rung, blocking out the noise around me. Everything was muffled. Unknowingly my hands grasped onto the bottle of liquor Tatum had earlier.

Making my way towards the back of the house, I sat on the dull, matted grass. Golden lilies bloomed around me along with dandelions. My hands tightened around the bottle, doing what I knew best, suppressing my feelings, numbing my pain.

Trevor, Trevor, Trevor.

My sense of solitude was the liquid that sat within the bottle.

Why aren't you here?

The bitter liquid made its way down my throat, the burning sensation stripping my throats compound flesh, having it become raw. It soothed me. The pain brought me comfort, it was quite beautiful actually.

It was beautiful due to the liquid in this bottle being my happiness in this confined moment. Time didn't exist. It casted away my thoughts, my memories becoming distorted, my mind wandering away, leaving me to be an empty shell of a human being.

The more sips I took the more both my muscles and nerves melted. My body becoming a canvas for my emotions to paint upon, creating a distorted piece of art. My eyes shifted upwards towards the sky.

Why can't you be here Trevor?

My eyes wandered towards every glistening star, hoping Trevor was looking down at me as I was searching for him up in the sky.

The sound of a blood curling scream within the house snapped me out of my emotional session. Ugh, im a depressed drunk. I immediately threw the bottle of liquor onto the grass.

As soon as I entered the house the air thickened, something wasn't right. A knott began to form within my stomach. The house was silent, too silent.

I was expecting to hear a bunch of drunks yelling, screaming, laughing, causing havoc, but nothing. Only the sound of Friday the 13th filled the house. I guess that was the cause of the scream I heard earlier. They're just watching a movie.

I made my way towards fridge to grab myself something to drink, but I was met with packs of beer and a cartoon of eggs. Where's the fucking condiments? I made my way to the garage, the wooden door creaked open. Making my way down the wooden steps, something lingered in the left side of my eye. Flicking on the switch to the darkened garage, my heart stopped.