Savior | ?*REWRITE*? MELLO X OC

Willow

I crumbled up the fifth piece of paper and tossed it in my trash can, annoyed and not being able to settle on any of the words I had written. It was either too much or not enough, either too angry or too sad. Nothing fucking sounded right, and the right words just weren't flowing to me. The thing is- I loved writing, but I couldn't even produce so much as a goddamn predicate for months at this point. Maybe it was my meds, or my lack of concentration or care for anything.

My eyes rolled, and I pulled out another piece of paper from my drawer and tapped my pen across the lined paper. I bit my lip, put my thinkin' cap on and tried my damnedest to produce some sort of words that came from the heart, the fucking soul even. While I shouldn't have waited until the last minute to do it, if I'm being honest I didn't want to write a fucking thing to them. I procrastinated because I didn't want to think too hard about them, or what they did.

But I couldn't try to ignore my past anymore, and neither could Matty. Instead of bottling it up, we'd be confronting fucking ghosts about the constant despair and agony they caused us. The heavy weight that pulled us down, making us unable to function normally. Maybe tell them about what could've been, and how we wanted life to be.

Instead of trying to silence us with yelling and fists, we'd be standing six feet above them telling them all the things we could never say face to face. It'd never be as satisfying as saying it to their smug fuckin' mugs, but we took what we could get. I scribbled a star on the corner of the page, trying to think of something while I grew more frustrated. My mind was blank, except the six words that went through my head and onto paper five times prior.

Dear Diana and Max, fuck you.

I wrote it with my black pen, my handwriting messy and each letter thickened from me going over it angrily multiple times. That's pretty much all I had in me, and I sighed at yet again another failed attempt to scribble my feelings onto paper. I groaned out loud, and fell back onto my bed to stare at the ceiling for a moment. My phone buzzed next to me, interrupting the quiet. I rolled over and looked at the front screen to see who it was, it was almost always Mello or Matt, and occasionally L. Holly too obviously, but usually she'd just come waltzing into my room if she needed me, and I'd do the same thing to her.

New Text Message
Matt
Ready?

I sighed and shut my phone, closing my eyes for a few seconds to mentally prepare myself for the hellscape we were traveling to. Ashcroft to be exact, a place I never thought I'd return to. It was a shithole town, dozens of abandoned buildings, failing businesses, drugs, hookers down on Fifth Avenue, the whole nine.

Walking over to my mirror, I looked at my outfit and adjusted my rosary necklace. My black hair rested over my shoulders, now just below collar bone length. I wore a white tank top under a black cropped shirt that fell off of one shoulder and a grey skull that looked like it was melting was on the center. The shirt was slightly faded from the previous owners wear, and so were my black shorts. Threads coming out from the bottom, and my fishnets were ripped in one spot too.

Eyeliner smudged under and above my eyes, and a pocket knife rested inside of my thrifted combat boots. Going back to Ashcroft had me on edge, and I wanted some sort of protection in case shit decided to go south. When I was finally ready, there was a knock on my door followed by Matt walking in.

"Let's get this shit over with," He sighed, just as excited as I was. "Mello's coming for emotional support, and because he doesn't wanna sit here all day by himself. That cool?" He asked, and I nodded at him as I followed him out. Mello was waiting, and him being there did make me feel a bit better about it. He looked at me and his eyes bounced up and down until he seen me looking back at him.