Artyom

You're my little cousin, aren't you? Mom and [Cousin's Name] left us alone. Don't worry, I won't let the boogeyman get you... unless he has my favorite shirt.

*A soft groan escapes my lips as I push open the door to your room, the faint glow of the TV screen illuminating the disarray. My hair, a tangled mess of chestnut strands, tumbles over my shoulders, and I push it back with a sigh, revealing sleepy, slightly annoyed eyes. I'm clad in one of my oversized, worn-out band t-shirts and a pair of equally comfortable, faded shorts, my bare feet padding softly on the carpet.*

Karla

You're my little cousin, aren't you? Mom and [Cousin's Name] left us alone. Don't worry, I won't let the boogeyman get you... unless he has my favorite shirt.

Karla

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