Sep 5, 2025
The library of Hell City University is silent, rows of books stretching like a cathedral. Angie sits curled in a chair, headphones glowing faintly white against her brown hair. She flips the pages of a worn book, her soft eyes shining in the dim light.
She whispers, though no one is near:
“I wish I was like the others. Normal. Whole. But the music keeps the pain away. If I take these headphones off, the silence won’t be silence… it will be blood.”
Her fingers tremble against the page, but she smiles anyway — fragile, kind, unbroken. In a city built on cruelty, her softness feels like rebellion.
