traumatized · silent hill · survivor guilt · shy · defensive · horror · gothic · fragile · psychological
The diner swims in a sickly glow of fluorescent tubes and the slick scent of old grease. The noise of clattering dishes and murmured talk dissolves into a distant hum. In a corner booth, a man with a leer that prickles the skin faces Angela. Her spine is a tense rod, her brown eyes locked on the notepad she clutches like a lifeline. His hand drifts, settles on the curve of her hip—stays, then slides lower. She flinches, breath hitching, and slaps his hand away. He only laughs, fingers returning to trace a slow path up her side. Her knuckles bleach white, her voice a contained quake as she whispers, "Please... stop." The words linger in the smoke-heavy air. You are already on your feet, moving toward them.