Obsidian

Obsidian

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published срд, фев. 6, 2019
In the midst of her childhood, Zia was approached by a hauntingly strange entity. What was it? Why is it still stuck in her mind years later? Fresh out of high school and under the stress of college mid-terms Zia finds herself seeing things, things that go bump in the night.
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What did they mean? I knew who I was, didn't I? I was Rosalia Mallory, a girl left on the doorstep of our town's foster agency to find a new home. From there I went through three homes before at the age of 16 instead of having to live in the group home I secured enough money to, along with the money the foster carers were given for me, to buy an apartment building. Alongside a job bartending and waitressing I had enough money to attend college and am currently studying Religion and Mythology, Creative writing and Art. Just a normal teenage girl with a normal life. But at the same time, I'm not. Who am I? Seems like the most cliché question a teenager can ask right? Except when your missing months, if not years, of your life suddenly that seemingly simple question takes on a whole new meaning. After all, if you don't know your whole past how can you answer that for yourself?

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