Miracle|√

Miracle|√

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WpMetadataReadComplete Thu, Dec 16, 20216h 8m
Miracle Deveraux Kind, forgiving, caring, smart and overall an amazing person. One of the nicest people anyone could get the pleasure of knowing. But she struggled to believe any of this, with each day that past. She thought she was: Annoying, incompetent, worthless, an attention seeker. Replaceable. You see she was always a happy girl growcing up until coming towards the end of middle School. In the beginning of 7th grade was when the torment began. Physically and mentally. She grew up disabled. She had cerebral palsy. Mathias DeLuca Rich kid, spoiled, lacrosse player, popular guy. Man whore personified. One of the biggest assholes you could ever come across. But what few failed to realize that he was more than that. Yes he was still kind of an asshole. Yet, he wasn't spoiled everything he got he had earned. He and his father were always close but they started drifting apart when his mother died in a car accident. This was several years ago. His father got remarried to lucious Wright's mother: Head of the school board. He and his father didn't always see eye to eye on things but they were still extremely close. When his mom died he started having panic attacks and nightmares about the night in question. He was broken and he needed a Miracle to fix him [Word Count: 70,000 - 80,000]
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Content Warning: This story contains themes of abuse, mental illness, blood, and drug use. Reader discretion is advised. If any of this feels familiar or personal, please know you're not alone. Feeling overwhelmed or emotional doesn't make you weak-it makes you human. If you're going through something and don't have anyone to talk to, you can always message me. My DMs are open on Instagram @thegoob_first. No judgment. Just someone who's willing to listen. ⸻ People say it gets better. That pain is temporary. That if you just "hold on," things will change. But I've been holding on so tight my hands are bleeding, and nothing's changed- except me. I'm thirteen, and I'm already tired. Not just sleepy. I mean tired in my bones. Tired of pretending school matters. Tired of dodging fists and fake smiles. Tired of being the leftover twin. Kevin was the one people loved. The loud one. The brave one. He used to say we were two halves of the same storm. But he's gone. Drowned in a river we weren't supposed to be near. And I'm still here. Alone. Sometimes I wonder if the wrong twin died. And some days, I know it. My mom won't look at me the same. My dad's fists speak louder than his words. And me? I gave up a long time ago. So I did what you're not supposed to do. I ended it. Only-I didn't. Because I woke up. Again. Same day. Same weight in my chest. Same pain. Now I can't even die right. But then I met her. Skye. And suddenly, dying isn't the hardest part anymore. Living is.

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