book one

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The light of day strikes, but it isn't harsh. But it's horrible. I hate the sun.

Tiny specks of raindrops coat the dirty window. Like stars in the night. Like his freckles.

No, no more thoughts of him.

The steam evaporating from my cup of coffee made tiny circles of warm fog spots onto the window.
God, it was freezing.

Sniffling my nose, I climb back into bed. The wooden floor is cold as well.

I finish my cup of coffee.

The sound of silence lulls me to sleep.

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