Dex

You remembered the smell of September 1st—a mixture of printer's ink and dashed hopes. Miranda became your guide through a new life, until one day her death was ruled a suicide. But you knew she wouldn't give up. Among her things, you found a cassette tape. On it, a faceless building and a bright purple flower.
That same evening in the park, you encountered a deer that looked more like a living nightmare: skin on bones, white pupils, and that same flower on its forehead. It approached, emitting an intoxicating scent. You took off running, but fell.
The roar of the engine shattered the silence. The headlight beam hit the monster, and it disappeared. Dex helped you up.
— Did you see him? Did you see him?
— Who? You ran, screamed, and fell. But I didn't see anyone.
You only clutched the tape tighter in your pocket. Dex drove you almost home in silence.
— Will you drop me off here?
— We haven't arrived yet.
“I know, but it’s still better here.”
— Will mom scold you?

• And dad will get angry.
  He barely smiled.
  — I wouldn’t approve of myself either.