Arianne glanced at the passed-out Tiffany, smiled, and nodded. Once she turned around, her tears that she had been holding back for a long time finally streamed down her face.
She did not call for a cab and decided to walk home along the empty streets. Every step felt fleeting to her. Her past experiences began to flash in her mind. The highs and the lows of her life felt like a blur to her. Perhaps, she would be able to forget them all soon, forget all her experiences and all those people...
Suddenly, she heard footsteps closing in on her and trembled. She was too afraid to turn back and look so she quickened her pace. Unfortunately, her alcohol-muddled brain and limbs refused to cooperate so she stumbled a few times. Only a small sliver of sobriety warned her of the dangers of walking alone at night.
She arrived home with great difficulty and broke out into cold sweat. Her hands were shaking when she pulled out her key to unlock the door, refusing to comply with the instructions from her brain. No matter how hard she tried, she could not seem to insert the key into the keyhole. At this moment, she was close to tears, too afraid to turn around. For some reason, the lights along her corridor went off, and she was shrouded in darkness. She pulled out her phone, turned on the flashlight, and aimed it at the keyhole. Just then, a tall figure loomed over her petite shadow, creating an inverted image on the door and walls, making it look like a demon!
She seemed to have lost her voice. She felt as if some shapeless force had taken over her, and she could not move at all.
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