𝐒𝐮𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐞- a nostalgic longing to be near again to something or someone that is distant or that has been loved then lost. "The love that remains."
a love between a hopeless girl and a hopeless boy.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I woke up to the sounds of chirping birds on my window. It isn't a surprise they could be annoying. For God's sake. I rolled my eyes, simply tired of today. Already.
I winced out of bed.
Great!
Now I have a sore neck with a burnt arm. Amazing.
Wait. Now that I'm thinking about it, I don't feel any pain. Oh, shucking hell, yeah!
I looked down, unwrapping the bandage from my arm. And to my surprise...the bruise is gone. The scar remained, but it was fully healed. It's as if it healed over two years already. Wow.
What the shuck? So, I guess my theory was correct. That water is magical. That pond...
It's magical somehow.
Honestly, I'm not even fazed by it; it's nothing compared to the changing, the box, and the creators.
Wow.
At least we have something on our side. Till now.
I wonder if it can heal a sting. A griever's sting... probably not. But maybe.
I sat up on my bed and got up quickly. Today is going to be a long day, for sure.
I grabbed my handy knife, put on my clothes, and put on my boots, then ran outside towards the med-hut.
I should tell Dextor about this first.
○°•●☆●•°○
"Okay, it won't heal that fast, you dumbass. You hammered your finger." Dextor's voice became clearer as I came closer to the hut. He was scolding Fred apparently because of his clumsiness.
I can't believe he's a builder.
"Hey, Dex." His head turned to me; his eyes had gotten a bit softer. "You here for a new bandage?"
I shook my head at his interrogation. I raised my sleeve. "It healed."
Dextor eyes went wide...as if he saw a griever. "W-what!?" He paused...frustration built on his entire face. "How the shuck?"
He dragged me over to a bed so he could examine me properly.
I guess it is...going to be a long day indeed. Ughh.
