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Aa

Blank virtues, quiet vices

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Summary

when an egotistical single mom with fiery red hair willingly gets stuck in the rabbit hole involving the most heinous crimes of her town; all from a notebook, they say.

Status
Ongoing
Chapters
4
Rating
n/a
Age Rating
16+

i. ria's love

It's a surprise

that I recall anything good from my years of high school, I know, but somehow, I can remember some pleasant moments.


My neglectant dad had a girlfriend once, however, unlike his other previous girlfriends, I somehow grew a liking to her.


She had chin-length hair and seemed to be of Italian and Turkish descent, her skin was a shade darker than both my dad's and I. She was easy on the eyes if I have to be honest.


She came at an odd time, to be honest, it was during the time I was being ghosted by my 'boyfriend' who I was extremely angry at. Nonetheless, I dryly greeted her when my father introduced her to me. She's probably a bitch as well, they always are, I thought.


She complimented my sense of style as she would see me head out of the door for school. "I really love your fishnet tights honestly," she replied after asking her if she's just being nice.


I raise an eyebrow and head out anyway, trying to search for my bike. My father's previous girlfriends always thought I was a damn whore because I liked to show a little cleavage and my black mini-skirts definitely won't near my knees.


Another instance, that I found odd, was that I would often walk into the house to find her quietly asking my dad why he won't say good morning when I woke up, why he won't ask how my day was, nor ask me if I was okay if I shut my bedroom door for hours.


My father isn't someone you would want to fuck with. He obviously snapped at her during these quiet arguments. I was mostly in awe and confused, his previous girlfriends never cared, all they cared about was getting with my dad and his money.


One time I was just on the couch, watching the news as typical when I saw her furiously wipe a tear as she stormed into the house.


"Ria, aren't you supposed to be at work?" I asked, genuinely confused, a bit concerned, but thrilled to see what kind of drama is going to break out.


Her pink lips trembled as she sat down near me. She and my father work at the same agency, so he often drives her to work. When I saw her and my dad exit out at the same time, I figured they were going to work together.


"Ana, I know it's super, super, rude for me to say this... but your dad is an asshole," her voice broke as she spoke.


I hummed, bringing my legs to my chest. "I know, he is."


Just when I was going to emphasize with her, her cheery attitude finally came back after a few long seconds—which felt like minutes— of us being silent. "But I still love him, you know."


She looked at me warily. "I'm not trying to get you to love your father, but honestly, I really really like him." She had a habit of repeating some words which I thought was cute.


"I don't judge," I comment dryly once again, my attention turned back to the news, trying not to notice her doe eyes staring at me.


Saying my father was a toxic man, that's an understatement. He definitely wasn't easy on the women he had a relationship with, nor was he easy on his daughter.


He never fucking cared, never cared about my love life, my grades, whether I was even treated fairly at school, none of this mattered to him. Perhaps it's because I remind him of my mother too much, well, I genuinely don't give a shit.


I found Ria to be a puzzling character, who would love a man like him? She definitely deserves better than him. She was also pretty much way younger than him as well.


However, I guess I was in the same position.


Days and days went by without my 'boyfriend' even calling me back. I started to get angrier and angrier. What my 'friend' told me was unforgivable. I called him multiple times, no reply, even called his sister, no reply. That slut hates my guts, why should I be bothered?


I dropped it. That coward decided he doesn't want to fuck with me.


I noticed I started craving weird things, I wanted to have some shredded cheese on chocolate cake, which I tried and I regretted it. I also definitely liked my carbs a little more.


My father grew irritated when I kept asking him to get things from the grocery store. Naturally, I wouldn't dare to ask from him, but the desires were too much.


I felt odd fatigue as well, I ignored it as maybe these are symptoms of my period.


Except it really wasn't...


One time I felt horribly sick, I had to skip school. As usual, my dad didn't care and went to work anyway, but I saw Ria stick around.


"Ana, your fever is quite high," she comments after pressing the back of her hand against my forehead, concerned.


I didn't speak, my stomach turning and my body aching everywhere. I wrapped my blanket around me as I felt cold, super cold.


I initially thought it was a fever, these symptoms are common after all.


"Would you like me to stay here to look after you?" Ria asked and that's when I lost it. Her caring attitude on top of my pain was enough to make me snap.


"Why do you care? Please tell me, why?! I treat you like shit and my asshole of a father genuinely doesn't care about you but probably only sees you as a piece of ass! Shouldn't you fucking leave already?!" I screamed, tears spilled as I was still in pain.


She was quiet and then, I clutched my stomach and mouth with my hands and quickly ran to the bathroom to throw up everything I'd eaten.


I felt her follow me and I then felt her small hands rubbing my back. My dark eyes were still filled with tears and after I finished, I flushed the toilet, my fatigue worse than ever.


"Anastasia, I-I think it's best you should get a pregnancy test-"


"Pregnant?! I'm not pregnant, what the hell Ria?" I exclaimed, making her jump.


"The symptoms just seem to line up and it's just a small test to make sure... I can go buy it. I know it's a scary process but I know a girl like you will get through it."


After saying that, she got up before I could reply and left the house, leaving me tired and angry at myself.


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