I won't say you're the issue

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I take a deep breath and allow myself to let go of all the stress then I suddenly hear footsteps "are you okay?" Blake said "actually no I'm not can I talk to you? I just really need to get all this off my chest." "Yes of course" he said. "So I took my brother and ran away.. but before you say anything it was for a good reason and I thought it was best but I don't know anymore I'm trying so hard to give carter the life he deserves and I hate he has to go through this after my dad left my mom started smoking and drinking then started beating us leaving bruises on us so when we went to school everyone would question us and I was sick of it I packed our stuff and left .. so now we're stuck in this situation and it's hard to find food and water without becoming a criminal and to keep running away every place we go" he takes my hand and holds it peacefully "hey don't worry I'd love to help you and your brother I can let y'all stay here I'll pay for the room and the food, water and cable okay?" "I ca-" he cut me off "let me help you, don't be afraid I know I'm just a stranger to you but I'd love to get to know you and your brother as well" "t-thank you" I said crying. "Come here" I place my head on his chest crying as he holds me. It felt like home. He smelled so good, a smell that I remember but can't recognize. I pull away and wipe my tears away. Looking into his beautiful blue eyes I didn't want to leave I wanted to stare into them forever I could spot every constellation left to right they were perfect. He was perfect. There was a beach it was beautiful I've never seen anything like it but I went back to the motel room and see a beautiful peach/tan dress With a flower by it I smile "someone as peachy as you are shouldn't be sad;)" I chuckle quietly knowing carter was passed out after watching cartoons for hours. I take off the clothes I was wearing and put the dress on. I stare at my reflection for a minute or two and I've never looked so "pretty." I walk down to the beach and I see....

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