Stanley
I should be mad.
There I was, slowly falling in love with this amazing girl, and now, the girl is holding me hostage. This whole thing is absolutely insane.
But I don’t feel angry at all. Instead, I feel sad knowing that Frida hates me now. Or did she hate me from the beginning? Was there anything about our relationship real?
After sitting in this chair for what felt like hours, I hear footsteps coming down the wooden stairs. I quickly shift in my chair, hoping it’s Frida. I smile as I see her. Her hair looks messy and dark circles are prominent under her eyes.
“Hey,” I say softly.
Frida doesn’t say anything and simply stands in front of me. Silence fills the room.
“Frida,” I begin. “I know you must hate me now. But I know that we had something. Something real.”
Frida’s exp
