(no subject)
[Yeah, Raine's been gone for a few days, but it's now just sinking in. Lucrecia is sitting on her bed, leaning herself against the wall and looking damned upset. Tears and everything! She's more mumbling to herself, sorting out thoughts. Not that they're complete thoughts, that is.]
I hate this city, when it decides to take those we hold dear. It was going to be her birthday soon. Not even a month. I end up losing those I have called my children. I hate this.
I hate this city, when it decides to take those we hold dear. It was going to be her birthday soon. Not even a month. I end up losing those I have called my children. I hate this.