I take a deep, shuddering breath, silently willing myself not to cry. Think of Scott. Think of Scott. My eyes travel to the mirror in the corner, the one that I pushed away because I couldn't bear my reflection. I scamper over and quickly turn it around.
My breath is taken away at my shirtless reflection. I look . . . dead. My eyes are emotionless, my cheeks are hollowed. My hair is matted and tangled, cuts litter my skin. Slowly, I turn around, and wince at the sight.
What seems like hundreds of long, thin cuts line my back, some crisscrossing others. A couple are still open and oozing blood. I look horrible.
"Mitch!" A voice interrupts my thoughts. I flinch and peak out of my room carefully. "Yes, sir?" I say quietly, slowly lifting my eyes up to make eye contact with my captor.
"Come here. I need to do something."
I obediently walk over, mentally preparing myself for the worst.
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Nothing (Second Sequel to Disgrace)Fanfiction
What do you do when you come home to an empty house? More importantly, what do you do when your house isn't supposed to be empty? Mitch had said he would be there waiting for Scott when he returned, but he wasn't. No, the brunette was nowhere to be...