"yeah?" the tired northern boy questions. his yawn fills the empty space.
"chris." i spit, wishing i can punch him through the phone.
the call ends, almost instantly. i grind my teeth together and chuck the entire phone across my dorm.
{a/n: crabstickz is finally updating again!}
YOU ARE READING
wrong number !! phan
Short Story"wrong number." says a familiar voice. (a/n look sis i wrote this when i was a dumbass kid and like 15 years old. this shit is tough. i romanized depression and suicide and honestly i'm a dumbass bitch ass whore. i'm toxic and feel free to cancel me...
