❝Good morning. This is Target, how can I help you?❞ ❝Why do I have the sudden urge to kill my family?❞ ❝...Woah...well...shit. Ma'am, I think you dialed the wrong number.❞ ❝No. I dialed correctly. Are you any help?❞ ❝...No sé qué decir a esta chica loca.❞ In which a girl named Farah calls Target and meets a boy named Chance. Best Rank : #1 in Short Story (8/27/16)

He was so fragile, like the flowers his mother used to plant in his back garden, the ones cherry red that wilted too fast. Shawn was the cherry red flower, it was when he laid in my lap, our fingers intertwined and my arms around him, that I knew he would wilt too fast. © weepies. All rights reserved. [[TRIGGER WARNING]]