H E R 

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t w e n t y  o n e  p i l o t s

trapdoor

❝ She wakes up early today, she throws on a mask that will alter her face. Nobody knows her real name, but now she just uses one she saw on a grave ❞

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t r a p d o o r

a hinged or removable panel in a floor, ceiling, or roof.

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     Waking up to the suns gleaming rays wasn't the best idea. Pacifica squinted her eyes, glaring right back at the sun that shone, the cause of her discomfort. She yawned and rubbed her eyes until the memory of last night came rushing back to her.

      That was a night of perfect mistakes, jaded eyes and broken plates.      

     Oh, crud, she thought, hurriedly rushing out of bed, pushing the BLUE comforter off of her and racing to the bathroom door. Quickly brushing her hair, and teeth, she grabbed a pair of shoes and ran downstairs, toothbrush still in her mouth.

      Her heart was thumping, and anxiety was beginning to seep through her veins. Time was thinning away and a lump was beginning to form in her throat. Her feet thudding, she came to a rest at the kitchens sink, vigorously brushing.

     "Pacifica," a calm voice said behind her, scaring her. It sounded like a calm before a storm. Which is exactly what was going to happen; a storm, that is. Pacifica's tooth brush flew from her mouth and into the kitchen sink, she turned around, mouth filled with toothpaste. 

     She grinned toothily at Mother, who had her arms now crossed, with a look on her face that only spelt out 'disappointment'. Thoughts were like a hurricane inside Pacifica's head, swirling and making her feel nauseous.

     "Hey, Mom," she said airily, grabbing the sinks edges and leaning against it. Mother shot her a glare, nostrils flaring and her puckered lips drawn in a snarl.

     "Precision of language, young lady," she tutted, and threw a look of disgust towards Pacifica. Her heart throbbed, hurt spreading like an infectious disease. 

     "You're supposed to be ready by now, it's late, and you haven't even changed, or eaten breakfast, if you keep this up you're eventually going to ruin our name! All of our hard work will be gone down the drain because of you, you little twit!" gritted out Mother with spite. 

    Eyes blazed with livid anger, Mother seethed, but drew heavy breaths to recompose herself. Pacifica's bright eyes had dimmed, and her mouth was closed. Turning around, she spat into the kitchen sink, throat constricted with frustration. Her eyes burned with despair as she began to rinse her mouth.

     "I am going to give you exactly an hour, and you should be done with everything, or you will be facing the consequences, little girl," she heard her Mother calmly say. Pacifica heard her heels leave the room and took a deep breath of relief. Washing her mouth, she turned around to put the bread inside the toaster.

     It was like every day her heart would have a new wound. Always inflicted by the same people. Tears pricked her eyes, sobs threatening to drown her in sorrow. She shook her head.

     Today was not the day to cry; to be weak.

* * * 

     "Are you sure you have everything, dear?" said Nana, one of the cordial servants of the household that had helped Pacifica pack her bags. Nodding mutely, Pacifica had one headphone in her ear and the other on her shoulder. 

    "I hope you do come back quickly," murmured Nana, looking at Pacifica kindly, brushing her hand on Pacifica's cheek. Something stirred inside her stomach. It was foreign to her; a gentle, motherly touch. Jerking back, Pacifica's heart raced.

     Nana flashed her a look of concern. Pacifica shook her head slowly.

     "Me too," sighed Pacifica. She hugged the old lady and looked around the massive garden they were in. The fountain in the middle, with the round about for the cars, and the colossal gate that had the Pines' symbol,  that separated them from the rest. 

      The thin line between rich in money and rich in family. The Pines' family were certainly rich in money, however family was debatable. I mean, they haven't divorced, Pacifica thought.

     Yet.

     Knowing she was from a wealthy family, she knew it was at the cost of her happiness. Maybe I don't need to be happy, she thought. I can do well without it, I mean, I'm still alive.

     "Tell Mother I said bye, and Father too," mumbled Pacifica as she grabbed her two suitcases, and swung the bag behind her back. Nana nodded with pitying eyes, and began walking up the marble stairs that lead to the tall wooden doors of the Pines' Manor.

     "Goodbye home, and hello boarding school," sighed Pacifica as she lugged her bags to the gate. Once she was outside the property of the Pines' Manor, she began walking down the hill, bobbing her head to the music, until she came to the stop sign.

     It took an hour for the bus to arrive and as she boarded it, all she could notice was the lack of empty space in it. A lot of people are traveling for a school year, she thought with mild curiosity. She sat down near the back, with an old sleeping man as company.

     He had a peaceful face with age carved onto his dark skin, and a growing white beard. His soft snores weren't a bother, fortunately.

     She squeezed her bags next to her, trying not to make a big mess out of herself and tried to keep her head down. Her goal was to be unrecognizable. It succeeded as she slept through half of the way. When Pacifica had woken up, everyone was gone and there were still two hours until she reached the school.

     She leaned against the window, looking at the sun dipping into a sunset, its vibrant colours now dimmed to blues and purples. Colours that felt familiar to look at, she glanced at her arm. 

     Taking a sharp intake of breath, she glanced at the windows sill, and noticed engraved messages written on it. Curious, she leaned forward and squinted her eyes, brushing the blond strands of hair out of her eyesight.

     take me out and finish this waste of a life

     this hell hole is sucking me in, get me out

     watch as we disappear through this trapdoor

     "Huh, not what I was expecting," said Pacifica, rolling her eyes. "Wonder who had enough time to carve this on a public bus."

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b l u e

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Dedication to @ChickenHottie

Because she's a great human being. This is my take on Gravity Falls, a better version of Falling For You basically, lmao. There's actual plot, guys!

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