( n. )
Marco is a horrid little rat. She'd sell you to satan for one slushie. with her all-knowing ears, she knows when people talk shit. She's been known to kill people for such acts of treason. She's easy to anger and when you're on her shit list, it's near impossible to get off of it.
She also has a nack for drinking sugary drinks and annoying a very tall French fellow.
You just turned off all the lights and locked your bedroom door, about to go to sleep.
It had been dark out for quite some time and staring at your bright phone screen for such a long time in the dark wasn't helping you go to sleep any faster.
Aside from the weird things that happened this day, like things going missing and weird scratching in the walls; your day was good, having completely forgotten of the brunette you had recently talked hardcore smack about.
As your eyes rolled back and your eyelids fluttered shut, slowly sinking into your bed; the light turned on, every so slightly as if a sort of dim hue illuminated in your eyelids.
Thinking of how hard it was to continue sleeping and ignore it, you decided to lean up, as you rub your eyes a soft tapping can be felt on your toes, like a gloved hand.
When you finally focus your sight, you see here.
There she is, at the end of your bed.
( n. )
The poor grumpy, french husband married to that crazy slavic brunette who collects knives and won't stop drinking from the slushie machines at 7/11. He never sleeps because he has to keep up with his manchild of a wife.
François, staring at Marco as she runs around an empty parking lot: What do you have?
Marco, still running: A knife!
François: *Begins running after her* nOo-