The Voice of Death
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Her chestnut hair was wavy. Her lips were pink like the color of a rose. It turned to a smile where everyone could fall in love. Her skin glowed naturally and fair and smooth. Her cheeks turned red or pink whenever she was shy or angry or happy. Her eyes were blue-green, the windows to her soul. She moved and danced gracefully like no other people could. She's so full of life yet she's the voice of death.
Farina was far of being normal. She had been keeping secrets of her own that no one could ever know except for her family. Past was haunting her. Present was keeping up to get a hold of her. Future was in her hands. What would she do if someone told her that her father, who's dead for three years, was still alive? What would she do if someone told her the real story behind the things she did but she never really meant to do? What if she needed to go away from the home she was used to for her safety, what would she do? Farina was torn between choices but she knew she had no choice but to follow the ways and leads of the prodigal son, Xavier Calvin Thompson - or that's what they branded him. She would be stuck in a situation that she never imagined that would ever happen in her life.
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mythology
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