(Untitled)

[__spotlight]

She didn't know what to do about it anymore. All of the jealous looks, and jeering hooks. Her classmates were an orchestra of discord and disdain. Constant crescendo, lack of refrain. They hated her disease that had no name. She had thought of some, for amusement, for fun. It made her stronger being the only one. For every strand of hair on

Comments

[micrimsontears]

some of your writing?

[only_piano]

this is really well written. i like it.
i miss talking to you.
happy belated birthday