"We tried to be better, but we aren't. I don't think anyone could last more than a week here if they weren't willing to do bad things." - Alba Reyes

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Spinnentier
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Tormento Pabulum
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She felt a little better after that. Didn't matter what happened, he could always be trusted to take care of her. Even now, in the the impossibly dark parking lot, he had his arm around her and had pulled out his phone's light for her.

Most guys probably wouldn't do that for her. But here he was, even though she reckoned he could pretty much have any girl in the school. He was tall, muscular, had a foreign accent, and was nearly as wealthy as herself. And yet instead of going for one of the generic, blond, super-popular beauty queens, he chose her, the reedy, snobby nerd, and one that dressed incredibly tomboyishly at that.

She pressed into him for warmth, and to reassure her subconscious that Will was still there. Of course, she already knew that he'd never leave her, but her mind certainly had other plans. Every shadow on the wall looked poised to jump at her. Every minuscule sound around her was made by something out to get her. She was wading through an ocean of darkness, of pitch black, save for the weak cone of light that was Will's phone.

A few tears rolled down her face. Even with Will right next to her, she didn't know how much of this she could take. She swiftly moved to wrap her arms around Will, embracing the only thing she could trust in the moment.
I'm still here, just lurking though for the most part.
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I've Got You, Under My Skin · At the Dance