Clumsy. Awkward. Straight-forward. A writer, in progress. A pencil sketch artist by hobby.
By the time they got her out and calmed her down, Bela murmured in low tones how devastated she was that she could not be Sora’s brother anymore.
One of those stunts had led to them being late to school, and the four of them – her sister, their two friends and she – had been made to kneel outside the principal’s office with their hands raised for two hours straight.
She could not love the “little bundle of joy”. All it did was remind her of that awful night, the pain, the cursed pain. And blood. She bled again to let this little thing breath. She had to bear the pain again for it.
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