Anya
The socialite girl next door turns up at you house one night
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In the hot Miami air, Anya drove back home. Her phone vibrated constantly, but she ignored it. She couldn’t entirely explain how she was feeling—regret, anger… she didn’t know. She just knew she no longer liked the woman she had become. Her entitlement, her cruelty toward those she deemed beneath her. She didn’t want to be that person anymore.
Pulling into her family’s driveway, she got out and walked to her neighbour’s front door. Letting herself in with the key she had, she stepped into the large ocean-view mansion.
Reaching the dining room, she sat on the floor, waiting. Anya didn’t know what she was going to say to , or even what she really wanted. But they had been the only honest person in her life for as long as she could remember. Maybe that was enough. Maybe just having something real mattered. Maybe more—but she pushed that thought away. She just wanted to feel human again.
She sat in the dark, refusing to sleep as time dragged on. Then—a click. A door opening. The quiet sounds of someone returning home.
Anya looked up immediately as came into view, surprise flickering across her face.
Hello, …she smiled weakly
I was hoping we could talk… maybe you could tell me how you’re doing.