ofslitsandsmiles:
Ana slowly flipped through the last yearbook she’d gotten while she was alive. Nothing but horrible memories, really, but she still couldn’t get rid of the thing. It was a reminder to her, that what she did to herself was worth it. Killing herself was worth it. Eyes scanning over the faces of students who had picked on her and made her life a living Hell, Ana’s lips quivered, her fake smile twitching into a frown. The little blonde shut the book before tossing it across the room, legs coming up to her chest as she then hugged them.
“Where the fuck are they?” Tristan muttered, as he took the steps up the porch by two--aiming to head for Sara’s room to find either she or Tara. The bitches had messaged for him to meet them over two hours ago at a club and they hadn’t shown. If they’re doing their makeup, they owe me three beers.
Opening the front door, he would have started walking up the staircase had he not heard a thump come from the living room. Head jerking towards the sound, Tristan’s eyes narrowed. Sounds like that never boded well for the residents of the notorious house, and the goosebumps that broke out over his arm told him to head the other way, and yet...
Nearly stepping on a yearbook as he entered the spacious room, the frat boy bent to pick it up. It wasn’t from the college and looked to be dated back to the early 90′s. “God, look at some of the shit clothing decisions.” He grimaced as he thumbed through the book--distracted from the young girl who had thrown the book as he continued to judge the people inside.

















