just a random shattered memories that try to coney all of un-speakable feelings. It's bad it's not good, not a kind of salad that millennial girls usually diggest. Just a stain coffee in the white pure canvas.
FUCK YOU! READ TO FIND OUT! BITCH!
(Description was written when I was 13. Story is being marked as completed, despite being far from it, due to the fact that I have absolutely no desire to return to my cringe ways of writing-let alone continuing this story. May it forever rot and show how bad I used to be, but never be taken down.)