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𓇼
𝘔𝘰𝘮, I wrote.
𝘈𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵, 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦. 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘶𝘭𝘵, 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺, 𝘐 𝘥𝘰. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘐 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘥𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘬𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘡𝘢𝘳𝘢 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦. 𝘚𝘶𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘶𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦. 𝘈 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘶𝘴.
𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵.
𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘰 𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦. 𝘐 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘢𝘺, 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘺—𝘐 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘢𝘸. 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘢𝘥𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴. 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘺𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘥𝘰. 𝘋𝘪𝘥.
𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥, 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘐 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘐 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘐𝘧 𝘐 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘣 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘐 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘺𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘭. 𝘐𝘧 𝘐 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘓𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘍𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘐 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘷𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘯, 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘶𝘤𝘦-𝘸𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩.
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘐 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩. 𝘚𝘰 𝘐 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘥𝘢𝘺, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘺, 𝘐 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘰 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘐'𝘮 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘐'𝘮 𝘢𝘧𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘥
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RomanceAnnalise Starke had known her mother was going to die eventually; she just hadn't expected it to happen so soon. At fifteen she had moved with her mother back to her home country of Australia with half a heart (metaphorically, of course) and her mo...
