haunted house

“This is the last slice of cheesecake so yeah…. sorry.”

Bradley paused for a second, narrowing her eyes subtly. It wasn’t even like she’d wanted a slice -- it was the fact that she didn’t have a choice in the matter. Reaching out, she shoved the paper plate out of his hand, watching the cake splat on the ground beneath them. “Yeah... sorry.”

“I don’t know about you, but I feel like going out tonight. Thing is, I have no idea what to do. Any suggestions?”

“I have one -- start jogging. Keep jogging. Pick up pace. Eventually, jog so fast that you take off from planet earth. Keep going until you hit the sun.”

Does anyone want to have a party for the Super Bowl? Like snacks, board games? I want to get wild.

Snacks? Board games?! Holy shit, Janette, you’ve gone fucking insane!

Girls like her, my grandfather once warned me, girls like her turn into women with eyes like bullet holes and mouths made of knives. They are always restless. They are always hungry. They are bad news. They will drink you down like a shot of whisky. Falling in love with them is like falling down a flight of stairs.

“Well, yeah - that’s where all my best work comes from, didn’t you know? Nothing beats coming and nicotine.” Ashley laughed, rolling his eyes at the girl as the elevator doors pushed themselves open to reveal Ash’s floor. He reached over to tug on Bradley’s sleeve as he exited, pulling her along with him, “Yeah - I fuckin’ wish. Never been out of the country - or even seen a vineyard, for that matter.” Ash laughed as he stopped in front of a door reading, ‘504 - Fuck OFF.’ He paused for a moment, raising an eyebrow at Bradley before pushing the door open, “How generous. Who else have you fuckin’ killed?” 

“Nope. Shockingly, I’m not your number one fan. The whole poetry thing doesn’t really do it for me,” Bradley offered with a limp shrug, smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. When he pulled her along, she scowled. “Shit, relax. It isn’t world war three, we don’t need to sprint to a bomb shelter.” Regardless, she let him guide her to the door. “Nice door. Really got that troubled teenager circa 2007 vibe going.” No sooner was she inside, she was shrugging off her jacket. “John Travolta, the guy that always glares at me at the bus stop, Kermit the frog. Just to name a few.”