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{ F L A S H B A C K }

"You're such a freak, Dahlia." Her friends spat.

"You need help." Her teachers frowned.

"You're a disgrace." Her family choked out in disdain.

But he simply said with a shrug, "Life moves on, and it gets better as long as you try."

She always found him sat beneath the trees, reading or deep in thought. He'd never say anything else, but he'd always watch her as she spoke to him or cried into her sleeves, and if she trailed off because she thought he was no longer enthused, he'd gently pat her arm to reassure her he was still thoroughly listening.

One day, she sat there wordless. They'd finally given up on throwing words at her, and so she just sat there. In silence.

"Why did you do it? Wasn't that your question, Luke?"

written in scars  || father lrh (au) Donde viven las historias. Descúbrelo ahora