Pickles the Goose and a Missing City

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Ally buried her head in her hands, mousy brown locks slipping out from between her fingers. The darkness was somehow comforting, in a way. In the distance, she could hear Trish's voice directing Austin in the opposite direction. Good. Alone with a goose; that was good.

She had never been the most cheerful person, truthfully. But she never pictured herself this far gone. The water reflected a vision of shame. Was this even her? Even she wasn't sure anymore.

Her reflection showcased a pitiful, mousy-haired girl. Her once-perfectly pink dress was ripped in the most unflattering places. Her brown eyes were tinged with pink. If she was being truthful with herself, she looked truly hideous. (Ally: I-I *sniffle* do n-*another pathetic sniffle* not.)

Suddenly, she could see another face in the reflection. Dallas. She sighed, tossing a pebble. The imagined image rippled and faded away.

Just like the boy she thought loved her did.

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