The quaint, corner cafe that Jessica Baker frequents is normally quiet.
It’s normally strong, artisanal coffee.
It’s normally an obviously Pitchfork-inspired playlist droning softly from the overhead speakers, and four, safe, cream-colored walls that block out an endless cityscape.
It’s normally quiet.
It is not normally teeming with children.
Loud, sticky, obnoxious children.
It’s winter break, and she curses herself for not remembering that fact after listening to her preteen niece chatter excitedly about “making up for lost sleep” just the weekend before.
She sips her usual – a dirty chai, double shot of espresso, thank you – and can’t quite bring herself to shove her earbuds in to drown out the monotony when she spots the couple and little girl sandwiched between them ordering at the counter.
you walk in to see him cheating on you, crying your eyes out he finally notices and jumps up "Y.N! it isn't what it looks like!" you cry more as the blonde skanky skanky bitch smirks at you "it's exactly what it looks it looks like" you run out of the house and jump into your car, hightailing it out of there, you never got to tell him you're pregnant with twins, his twins, and now you'll never get to tell him, you won't allow him to be in their lives, a couple days later he shows up at your house and before you can slam the door he walks into the house "get out" you angrily cry "Y.N! listen to me it wasn't me, i was being possessed by a demon and had no control over anything i love you" smiling "aww" you squeal you jump into his arms kissing him "i have to tell you something" you look him into the eyes as he speaks "i only have two days to live" you sob falling onto the floor-