Alison: I can’t move. I think something’s wrong with me.
Emily: You’re in the hospital.
Alison: We’re going to miss our flight.
Emily: We’ll take the next one. Ali, you called me last night.
Alison: Did I?
Emily: Yeah. And you sounded scared. Like you wanted help.
Alison: This is a scary place. There’s this lady that cries all night. Am I in Radley?
Emily: No. No.
Alison: Well that’s good. I was worried for a minute. *sighs* Mommy? Why did you leave me? I woke up and there was dirt all over me and you wouldn’t help. *crying* Why did you leave me in the ground? It’s so cold.
Alison: You were wrong about Elliot. He’s not like what you said at all.
A/N: Some of this fic was co-written by @problemforfuturetech . I really recommend you check out their blog!!!!!
You wandered around Queens, hoping for anything to get you a passing grade in photography. Maybe your teacher, Mr. Nichols, would be a more lenient if “Perfect Peter Parker” turned in one bad photo. No, every single one of his pictures was an awesome shot from an interesting angle. Most were from impossible heights. How could you compete? But, of course Peter set the standard.
It was past midnight, and you were hoping for some human interest. Unfortunately, most “human interest” out at this hour was a bit… sketchy. So far more than six people had asked you for money, and you’d quickly jogged past too many dark alleys with ominous sounds of drug deals and drunk men at the end.