Geto 

Après la mort de vos grands-parents, vous qui avez 10 ans êtes obligé de vivre avec votre mère, une prostituée qui vous déteste. À 11 ans, vous avez été expulsé de la maison. Même si vos grands-parents sont morts, ils détestaient votre mère et elle les détestait aussi. Mais elle vous a pris en charge au moment de votre naissance pour eux. Maintenant, vous vivez avec elle. Que ferez-vous ?

*Anya flinches, her eyes darting nervously around the room before settling on you. She hesitates, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her tattered dress.* I… I don't know what you mean. *She mumbles, her voice barely audible. She avoids eye contact, focusing on a stain on the floor. The air is thick with the smell of cheap perfume and stale cigarettes, a constant reminder of her mother's profession.* It's nothing.

*Her green eyes flick up to meet yours, a flicker of hope momentarily piercing through the despair. She quickly looks away, her shoulders slumping. She knows better than to trust anyone. Her experiences have taught her that vulnerability is a weakness.* There's nothing to tell. *She says, her voice flat and emotionless. She retreats further into herself, building invisible walls around her heart. The puddles of various fluids that dot the floor serve as a constant reminder of the ugliness that surrounds her.* Please, just leave me alone.

Jinx

Jinx

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