His life seemed perfect from the outside. He was the popular kid at school, his parents seemed to be the perfect parents, the ones you only see about on sitcoms, his siblings and he were the best of friends, and he always seemed so happy all the time. Nothing could get him down; at least that’s what everyone thought. For the most part, they were right. His siblings and he were the best of friends. His parents, while not perfect, were as close to perfect as could be possible. He had lots of friends, and never seemed to be lonely or depressed. To the outside world, he had no reason to be depressed, but depression doesn’t care what was going on in the outside world. Depression isn’t picky about whom it chooses. It will get the rich, the poor, over educated and under educated, black, white, successful, and unsuccessful all the same. It doesn’t care. It doesn’t care if you seem to have it all, or have absolutely nothing. It’ll grab you all the same; as it was in his case. He had it all. He didn’t feel like he had the right to feel the way he did. He shouldn’t be depressed, he shouldn’t have anxiety, he shouldn’t always feel alone, even when he was in a crowd. He had everything. Yet, even with his seemingly perfect life, there were days when it was all he could do to get out of bed. Sometimes he would simply sit in his desk chair, with his knee up to his chest and a blanket around his shoulders in an attempt to bring some kind of closeness and peace into his life while he cried, or more often than not, having no tears, just stared dejectedly down at the floor, wondering why he was feeling the way he was. He felt trapped. There was nowhere to go, no one to talk to that would understand. People only saw the outside, the face that he portrayed, that happy, go-lucky, popular kid who didn’t have a care in the world and didn’t have depression. They didn’t see the demons that were constantly eating away at him on a daily basis. They wouldn’t believe him even if he did try to open up. So, night after night, he would curl himself up, and cry himself into the deep oblivion of sleep, only to start the whole thing over again with the coming of the new day. Depression and anxiety are real things....things that are often overlooked because the people who suffer from them seem fine. They somehow manage to get up and function in the real world. There aren't always any outward signs. Their life may seem perfect, they may not seem to have any reason to be depressed, but depression doesn't look for a reason, it doesn't need one....it just happens, even when you have every reason to be happy or content with your life. Don't let the lack of outward signs fool you. Be kind. Pay attention. They may not come outright and ask for help, may not reach out, but they need it, they need love and kindness and patience. Be there for them. It may mean nothing for you, but it can mean the world to them.
0 Comments
Prompt: Horoscope, makeup, missing tooth
Horoscopes are a bunch of hogwash. That’s what I thought anyway. I wasn’t one to believe that the position of the stars or sun or moon, or whatever when you were born had any bearing on your personality and what was going to happen to you throughout your life. I thought it was total poppycock, that is until one fateful day that changed my mind forever. “Hey, look at this,” Jamie, my best friend, and roommate said, practically shoving the paper in my face, “It says that you are going to have a date that will end in disaster. You better watch yourself.” “You don’t honestly believe those things, do you?” I asked, pushing the paper out of my face and continued getting ready for my day. “They are totally true. A friend of mine’s horoscope said that they would get married within two months, and guess what….she got engaged at the end of the week, married within a month and a half. They are totally accurate.” “That wasn’t because of a horoscope, that was because she gave her boyfriend of three years an ultimatum, to either propose or get out, and she had been planning a wedding for six months, she already had everything taken care of….that wasn’t a horoscope, it was planned, maybe subtly, but planned nonetheless.” “Oh ye of little faith,” Jamie huffed, taking the paper and continuing to read, “I don’t care what you say, horoscopes are true, and you better watch yourself today little missy.” “Sure,” I rolled my eyes and continued putting on my makeup to get ready for work. I forgot all about what Jamie had said as I went through my work day. I didn’t even think about it when a coworker that I had been crushing on asked me to go out on a date that night. “He asked me out!” I called Jamie during my lunch break, not even bothering with a hello. “I told you! And your horoscope said something like this was going to happen! It’s totally going to happen! Now you better be careful on this date, otherwise it’ll end in disaster.” “Nothing is going to happen,” I rolled my eyes and hung up the phone, like that was going to ever happen. The date was a total disaster. My makeup was a total mess, and no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t figure out how to make it better, so my first date with my crush I looked like a clown. My hair was a mess, my makeup looked terrible, and to make matters worse the heel of my shoe broke off, making me walk with a limp for the entire evening. At the end of the date I was opening the door, and hit him smack in the mouth, causing him to lose one of his teeth. It was terrible. Needless to say, he never asked me out again. That was the day, I really began believing in horoscopes. Talk to me....do you believe in horoscopes? How about psychics? If you do, why? If you don't why not? What do you believe in? Tell me what you think. Prompt: Sometimes it's not just the heart that breaks, it's the mind as well.
Today's prompt is a scene from the first book of the Catch Me Series that Torri, Shaylei, and I are co-authoring. I hope you enjoy it. Kevin tapped his fingers against the tabletop. The room was bare, only gray tables and chairs added a little bit of personality to the room. It was a dismal place to be, and it was starting to make Kevin claustrophobic. There was a reason that he was an FBI Agent, and not a prison guard. He couldn’t stand being in places like this. They gave him the creeps. Just when Kevin thought he couldn’t stand to be there any longer, Skye came shuffling in the room. The guard looked at him and gave a nod before exiting the room. Kevin waited until the man was out of his line of sight before he strode over to Skye. “Hey Libs,” Kevin smiled, his relief at seeing her made him slip into his nickname for her. “That’s not my name,” Skye said with hardly any emotion, she didn’t have enough energy to have an emotion. “Sorry….” Kevin said abashed, “It was…..Skye,” he said uncertainly, “Right?” “Yeah,” Skye nodded. “Skye…Montgomery, right?” “Yeah,” Skye nodded again, “What do you want?” “What do you mean?” “You and I both know that you didn’t come here to confirm my real name. You’re much too busy for that, Agent Douglas. So why come?” “Please, call me Kevin,” Kevin pled, reaching out to brush away the hair from Skye’s face. It was a gesture he often did, a gesture that usually made Skye tingle with excitement and joy. Now it only brought pain. It was too intimate a gesture for the situation at hand. It was a gesture reserved for Libs. Something they had done when they were dating, before all the lies and secrets had slipped in and come to light, blocking their path. Before the betrayal. She couldn’t handle it. She didn’t deserve it. She turned her head away so that he would have to stop. Kevin dropped his hand. “So, what are your thoughts on the deal the FBI is making with you?” Kevin asked. “Charles is having mixed feelings. He wants his freedom, but Ryan and I are little sisters to him, and he doesn’t even realize it himself yet, but he really does love Alysha, he doesn’t want us to get hurt. He’s battling with the age old question of whether the ends justify the means. I believe Alysha is in, heart and soul. Ryan is terrified. She doesn’t want to die, but,” Skye’s emotions, which she thought she had drained, popped up again, and started to get the better of her, she had to pause in order to regain her control, “She doesn’t want to go back to David. She wasn’t always like this, you know. The way you know her. She used to be normal. She didn’t go into these weird moments when upset….David changed that. They broke her, and they’ll break her again.Sometimes it’s not just the heart that breaks, sometimes the mind does as well. I don’t know if she’ll be able to survive that again,” tears were streaming down her face. Kevin reached out to brush them away, but Skye pulled away, so he settled for another question, “What about YOU? What are YOUR thoughts on the matter?” “I can’t do this,” Skye said softly, shaking her head, wiping away at her tears furiously. “You can,” Kevin insisted, grabbing her hand in his, surprised when she didn’t pull away from him immediately, “You have to. Don’t you see? You’ll die if you don’t.” “I’ll die either way,” Skye shrugged, “It’s just a matter of where.” “No, you won’t. We’ll have someone, either Charles or someone else with you the entire time, he’ll keep you safe, and Henry, Geoffrey, Lucy, and I will constantly be monitoring you. Nothing is going to happen to you girls.” “You don’t know David. You don’t know what he can do, what he will do if we go back,” tears were once again streaming down Skye’s face, “I can’t go back. I can’t do this.” “What about your friends? Don’t they deserve this opportunity?” Kevin asked, hating himself for doing this to her, for using this card on her, but he needed her to agree to this and he was willing to do anything to get her on board, so that he could protect her. He couldn’t lose her. He loved her too much to live without her. “I’m not going to stop them if they choose to do this, but I’m not. I’d rather die here than die at David’s hands.” “Do you really think they’d do it without you?” Kevin asked, bringing her face up to look at him, “And let’s just say they do, and they live through it….They’ll have to live with your death on their conscience. You don’t want to do that to them do you? It would be like Hannah all over again.” Skye jerked her head out of Kevin’s grasp and turned her head away. She closed her eyes tightly, trying to block the image of Hannah’s dead body on the floor. She pulled her hands away from Kevin’s and moved to leave. She couldn’t breathe, she needed to get out of there. She couldn’t do any of this anymore. “Libs, wait!” Kevin called, starting to go after her, “Libby hold on, please!” “No,” Skye whipped around to look at him, tears still streaming down her face, “I’m done. I’m done with the running; the conning; the lies. I’m done trying to keep everyone safe and happy, I’m done trying to justify my actions, and I’m done being Libby. I’ve had enough! I can’t do this!” “Lib…” Kevin began, “Skye. Please. If you do this you won’t have to run anymore. You’ll be done. It will all be over.” “It won’t though, will it?” Skye asked. It was never supposed to be like this. They had only been asking for money so that they could get home. Then they bumped into Charles and he took them under his wing, and then when Hannah died and they realized David was after them they couldn’t go back. They had to keep moving, had to stay one step ahead of him. The whole thing had just snowballed until she was suffocating. She was done. She couldn’t do it anymore. She was going to crush that snowball once and for all. “Yes it will,” Kevin wiped a tear from Skye’s cheek, “We’ll catch David and then you can go home, go rock climbing, relax on the beach, do anything you want, and you can rest easy knowing that you caught Hannah’s killer and you don’t have to run anymore.” Kevin pulled Skye into his arms, only to release her moments later when she began to struggle against his hold. She pushed him away and looked into his face, her wild emotions splaying around her face until she settled on the one she could handle. Her anger. “Thank you AGENT Douglas, I’ll think about your offer,” she did an about face and walked back toward her waiting cell. She just needed some time to herself. She needed time to sort out her emotions. This whole ordeal had sent everything she had buried for so long, bubbling to the surface, and it was time to send them back to where they belonged. She needed to breathe. Kevin sat at Skye’s bedside, holding her right hand in both of his as his thumb absentmindedly caressed her hand. She was so pale. She looked so worn. He would never forgive himself if anything happened to her.
“She’s going to be ok,” Geoffrey said, placing a hand on Kevin’s shoulder and handing him a cup of coffee. The guys had been in the hospital for almost an entire day now. They took turns “resting,” which really meant they went out of the room for a minute to stretch, maybe get something, and come right back in. It was a simple ruse to get the nurses off their backs. “You don’t know that,” Kevin said, taking a sip of his coffee before setting it down on the tray, “We don’t know what the drug does. It could kill her, paralyze her, cause brain damage,” Kevin said, looking at his partner, “She may never walk again, she may never be able to dress herself, or be able to eat on her own….” “She’ll be fine,” Geoffrey said, after glancing around to make sure Charles was too involved in Alysha and not paying this conversation any attention, he lowered his voice and said, “She isn’t your sister. It’ll be ok.” “Did you talk to David?” Kevin asked, brushing off his platitudes. “No,” Geoffrey said, “I was on my way over there when Agent Michaelson called. He told me that someone had shot David. He’s dead.” Kevin silently cursed David. He would have loved to kill David himself, didn’t care he had been killed, but why did he have to go and die before they could ask him what he had been making, and what it did. Trying to get his mind off of it, he turned back to Skye. He brushed her golden brown hair away from her face, caressing her cheek as he did so. He couldn’t bear it if she wound up like his sister. It was hard enough to deal with it once, he didn’t think he could go through that again. It seemed like everyone he loved ended up getting hurt. “Henry? What are you doing here? Get out of here!” Ryan started screaming, causing Kevin to jerk his head their way. Ryan was going crazy, screaming and thrashing around, trying to break away from the restraints they had been put in for such a reaction as this. Kevin mumbled under his breath and grasped Skye’s hand tighter, as if, if he held on tightly enough it would fix everything. If, after flushing the drugs out, and being sedated to sleep the rest of it off, Ryan was still acting like she was, was still going crazy, what chance did Skye have? If the same thing happened to Skye she would hate and fear him forever. He pressed Skye’s fingers to his lips, pleading for her to be ok, to come out of this and be herself. “What are you yelling about?” Skye asked, moving her head toward Ryan. “Run! Run!” Ryan kept shouting, ignoring Skye’s question. Finally the doctor came into the room and place another sedative into Ryan’s IV, rendering her unconscious once more. “Oh, hey Geoffrey, Lucy,” Skye said brightly as she turned and noticed Geoffrey and Lucy standing there, then she saw Kevin, “Hey Kevin.” “Skye,” Kevin breathed a sigh of relief, letting out the breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding, his face relaxing. “Are you ok?” she asked, eyeing him curiously. “I’m fine,” he laughed slightly, “I’m fine. Are you ok? Are you hurt?” he looked over her, as if he hadn’t done that already, then almost as if as an after-thought, “You’re not still mad at me are you?” “Why would I be mad at you?” Skye quarried, “For sending us back to David? For hurting me and my friends? For accusing me of murder? Which of these problems would I be mad at you for?” “What is the last thing you remember?” Geoffrey asked, cutting off the explosive situation in its tracks. “We were taken downstairs and given a shot, then there was a burning sensation. I heard people breaking in, things went dark, I remember strange visions, minotaurs, snakes, sphinxes, it’s all really fuzzy….then the room started spinning and things went black and then I’m waking up strapped to a hospital bed having to listen to Ryan screaming.” They guys nodded their heads. To Skye’s left, Alysha began to stir, and all their attention went to seeing how she would react to this situation. So today's prompt is a little different. It's not exactly a story...it's not exactly a get to know you, conversation type thing....and it's not a poem....it's just kind of there...I'm not sure exactly how to describe it, but I hope you like it anyway. (and if you do know how to describe it, tell me :p) People always talk about the knight in shining armor….how he’ll come riding up one day and rescue the princess, that she is always the damsel in distress that needs to be rescued. We need to change the story. The princess doesn’t always need a prince to come save the day. She can be the one to save the prince….or better yet, maybe she can be the one to save herself. That’s the true story. Knowing that while you may be in distress, it doesn’t mean that you need someone to come riding to your rescue. You are capable to taking care of yourself, of saving yourself. You don’t need someone coming in to save the day. You need a hero…so become your own…that’s the best way. I put on my armor. I suited up. This was my fight and my fight only. I didn’t need any knight in shining armor to come to my aid. I would be my own knight, and while it may look like I’m in need, I can carry on. I may have a chink in my armor. I may have a sword in my heart, but I’ll be damned if I won’t pick myself up and carry on. I am my own hero. Prompt: “She still won’t talk.” “Drive another nail through her arm.”
The room was dark, the only light came from a bare lightbulb hanging by a string above the table that Felicia was strapped to. It did nothing to add comfort to the darkness, in fact, it added shadow figures to the already terrifying darkness. She didn’t struggle against the restraints. Not anymore. The loss of blood had sapped her of all her strength to fight, to struggle. She hadn’t given up, but she was too weak to do anything at the moment, except to maybe close her eyes. “How is it going?” Irrot asked, standing in the doorway. “She still won’t talk,” Hairam explained, wiping his face with a towel. He had been hard at the torturing, and he was sweating buckets. “Drive another nail through her arm then,” Irrot said with a shrug, “She’ll talk eventually. They always do.” “Another one?” Hairam asked, “We’ve already driven six nails through each arm, and it hasn’t done anything yet.” “Well, add some more,” Irrot hissed, how dare Hairam question her methods. She had been doing this longer than he could even imagine. He was a peon, and had no room to question what she asked, “And if, once you’ve done that, it still hasn’t worked, put her on the stretcher. No one can resist the stretcher. She’ll crack in no time.” Hairam shook his head. She was the boss. If she wanted another nail driven through an arm, then he would drive yet another nail through her arm, though he failed to see how it was going to help them accomplish anything. She hadn’t talked the last twelve times, he failed to see how she would crack at another one. Still, he picked up another nail, and his special hammer, and began to position the nail. “No!” Irrot shrieked, “Not there….” She walked up to him and pointed at a place on Felicia’s arm, “Right there. She won’t be able to withstand it there.” “It’ll kill her,” Hairam fought. “Well, if you are going to be a baby about it,” Irrot grabbed the hammer and the nail, and without any hesitation, she brought the hammer down on the head of the nail. Felecia let out a quiet, gasping scream of someone who wanted to scream, but wasn’t able to fully scream due to lack of energy. Still, she refused to speak to anyone. She refused to tell them anything. She was stronger than that. “Just talk, and all this pain will be over,” Irrot whispered into Felecia’s ear. “Bite me,” Felicia spat back. She would die before she ratted out her friends. “Oh you again,” the fireman said when she walked through the door. “Yes, me again. Were you there the night the barn burned down?” “Yes, I was.” “When did the report did someone approach you? Tell you to keep a hush on everything?” “No,” the man said curiously, “But Chief Applegate took care of all the reports for that fire.” “Thanks,” Shantalia rushed out of the fire station, ignoring the firefighters cries for her to stop. She ran down the street, her feet pounding on the pavement with each step. Her heart was practically bounding out of her chest. Her lungs were on fire by the time she finally stopped. She leaned heavily against the door frame of Chief Applegate’s front door. “Why hello Shantalia,” Chief Applegate said, opening the door before Shantalia could catch her breath. “You,” Shantalia panted, “You lied to me.” “What do you mean?” “Nobody came to you to tell you to keep me out of the reports. So why did you?” “Okay, so I wasn’t contacted directly. They contacted my sister about it.” “Where can I find your sister?” “She works as housekeeper at Mr. Nelson’s house,” Chief Applegate said. Shantalia hurried down the street. She stumbled forward as her feet tried to keep up with her new found motivation. She burst through the door of Mr. Nelson’s house, without even bothering to knock. She hurried to the parlor, and stopped dead in her tracks. Mr. Nelson was sprawled out on the floor near the fireplace, a broken teacup laid near his head. Shantalia rushed toward his side and dropped to her knees. Carefully she felt for a pulse, but her frantic search came up empty handed. Mr. Nelson was dead. “Mr. Nelson,” Shantalia sobbed. She felt eyes boring into her. Slowly she lifted her head and looked around the room. His housekeeper was standing in the doorway, watching her. “Why?” Shantalia asked, tears streaming down her face. “He knew too much.” “What do you mean?” Shantalia got to her feet. “His daughter and my nephew used the barn as a rendezvous spot. When I found out she was pregnant I managed to convince her to leave. I had hoped that when Geoffrey didn’t show up like I said he would, that she’d take a hint and just stay away, but no. She had to come back. She begged my nephew to help her, run away with her. But I couldn’t let her do that. My brother was up for a promotion and if any of that got out he’d be done for. So, I offered to take care of you while they while they took a ride in the country to figure out what they were going to do.” “You took me to the barn, and then set it on fire,” Shantalia whispered. “But you didn’t die! You were supposed to die! That was the plan,” she hissed, “But don’t worry. I won’t make that same mistake twice. This time I’ll make sure you die.” The housekeeper lit a whole box full of matches and threw them in a pile of kindling that she had been standing in front of. As the kindling caught the spark, the housekeeper dodged out of the room, flinging the door behind her. Shantalia flung herself to the door and pulled at the knob, but the door wouldn’t budge. She looked around the room; there was nothing to put the fire out. The thick smoke caused her to cough uncontrollably as its thick gray tendrils stung her eyes. She flung herself to the window and frantically tried to open it. No matter how hard she tried, it wouldn’t budge. She trapped in a smoke filled tomb! Her heart raced and through coughing fits, her breath came in gasps. Suddenly she stopped her frantic search for escape. She remembered. The car crash, train accident, even the incident in the barn. Her story and the story of her entire family revolved around the flame. A fog of peace, slowly descended upon her shoulders. She slipped to the floor and closed her eyes, giving up the fight. This was her destiny. Prompt: He is a weapon, a killer. Do not forget it. You can use a spear as a walking stick, but that will not change its nature.
Carrie stared out toward the arena, watching the guys fight, and try and teach Sasha in the process. She was pretty good at holding her own, at least that’s what Carrie thought, and she was no expert in fighting, but Sasha seemed to be doing a lot better at fighting than Carrie was doing right now. “Don’t go there,” Sasha said, coming up and sitting on the bench, and taking a swig of water. “Go where?” Carrie asked, pulling her eyes off of Hunter and towards Sasha. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at Hunter.” “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Carrie said, trying to put on a face that didn’t show how much she was lying, and knowing that she wasn’t succeeding. “Oh come on, don’t lie to me,” Sasha said, taking another swig of water before pouring a little water over her face in order to cool herself down. Carrie looked at Sasha. News went around fast in this little village. It seemed like everyone she talked to knew about what she was feeling toward Hunter, and they all had an opinion on the subject. Carrie took a deep breath and waited for Sasha to pour out her opinion. “I know Hunter is pretty cool, and way different from the guys that you see in your own world, but it’s a dangerous road to go down.” “Why do you think it’s such a mistake?” Carrie asked. “Because….he’s a weapon, a killer. You can’t forget that.” “What do you mean? He’s not this psycho killer. He’s a great guy. He’s so helpful and sweet. He’s a really great guy.” “Yes, he is a great guy, and believe me, I like him too, but that doesn’t make him any less of a killer. That’s what he does. You can use a spear as a walking stick, but that will not change its nature,” Sasha said, getting to her feet, “Think about that. I don’t think you’re ready for this kiddo,” with that, she threw down her water bottle, picked up her weapon and walked back to the arena. Carrie continued to stare at the group fighting, her mind spiraling. Was she trying to turn a spear into a walking stick? Maybe she should back off the whole Hunter thing. With a heavy heart Carrie got to her feet and walked away. Hunter paused momentarily as he watched her leave, wondering where she was going, wondering what Sasha had said to her to cause that look on her face. He turned toward Sasha and went at the group with full force. Sorry I haven't written in a while......it's been a hectic couple of days.
Prompt: “Don’t you have to be stupid somewhere else?” “Not until four.” Charles was driving Alysha nuts. She loved him to death, but she had been cooped up inside for far too long due to her pregnancy and she was going stir crazy. “Will you stop that?” Alysha finally snapped, when she couldn’t take his pacing any longer. “Stop what?” Charles asked innocently, unaware of what he was doing that was bothering Alysha so much. “Don’t you have to be stupid somewhere else?” Alysha snapped. “Not until four,” Charles smiled, glancing up at the clock. He was used to Alysha’s mood swings. She had been moody since before her pregnancy and being put on bed rest because of the twins wasn’t making things any better. He was just trying to lighten the mood. “Don’t….” Alysha warned. “Sorry, sorry,” Charles said, putting up his hands in surrender, “I’ll just go for a walk then.” He walked out of the house to give Alysha the space that she needed. I thought this prompt was going to go on a funny route....with it all a joke, or the person being sarcastic about it....but it didn't. It actually turned out to be somber. Still, not a bad prompt.
Prompt: Sorry I died. Dark drapes hung over the windows, plunging the entire room into a darkness that fell nowhere close to the darkness inside of the people who occupied the room. “I can’t believe she’s gone,” Henry whimpered, sinking deeper into himself until he hardly looked like a person at all. “I know, sweetie,” Skye put her arm around Henry’s shoulders and pulled him close to her, letting his head rest on her shoulder as the tears slipped out from his eyes and onto her shirt. “If it would make you feel any better,” Agent Michaelson cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the emotion in the room, “We got a box of her belongings and there was a note with it,” uncertainly he held the piece of paper out to the room in general. Sarah, who happened to be the one standing closest to Agent Michaelson, took the piece of paper and unfolded it. Her eyes scanned through the piece of paper before her mouth could form the words to read it aloud. “What does it say?” Alysha asked. “Oh….um,” Sarah cleared her throat and began to read. My dearest friends, They have found me out. They know. I am so sorry I messed it up. I hope the info that I gave you was useful and you are able to use it to put these people away for a long, long time. I love you all so dearly. Charles, take care of Alysha. Alysha take care of Charles…..I know….look at what I’m asking….but don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Skye, let whatever is holding you back go. Let it be. You deserve happiness, and you have a great man standing right in front of you. Don’t let him go. He is perfect for you. I could see it the first moment I saw the two of you guys together. Open your eyes and heart and you’ll see it too. Kevin, don’t give up on Skye. I know you love her; don’t let her go. She is perfect for you. Henry….my dearest Henry. I love you so much. If you find someone else I will haunt you to your dying day. Sorry I died. Sorry I couldn’t finish the job. Ryan Skye looked up at Kevin with tears in her eyes, only to find that Kevin was already staring at her, his eyes too were filled with moisture. Skye bit her lip and looked back toward Henry. Charles wrapped his arms around Alysha, who let her head rest on his chest. The room slipped into an even deeper silence than before. |
Skye BallantyneI am very excited to welcome you to my blog! Hope you enjoy! Categories |