Augustine, Tavee, Alistair... They wore the brightest oranges, the deepest purples, the most gorgeous shades of blue. They strolled in two hundred dollar sandals and pulled down their ribboned bonnets in muted annoyance whenever the sun flared. They were the Calico Girls, stained glass dolls, and they were utterly perfect until I noticed their cracks.
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This story is kind of based off of my OC, but she's you, the reader. Thanks is just a little idea I had and I hope you enjoy it. This story is told in first person.
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