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But what was that calling out to her?? That inner voice, what was it saying?? Could it be her conscience telling her to stop? Her anxiety telling her it won’t work? Her depression telling her to give up? No, it couldn’t be any of those. This had more... energy. She felt a flame igniting inside of her. Alas, she figured it out. Her heart was telling her to go for it. She knew now it was time. As she stepped out, all eyes were on her.
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She sprinted away from the house, scared to look back. She left behind all the pain and memories that once haunted her. For once, she felt free. She felt as if nothing was holding her back. Step by step, her sorrows and worries melted away. Suddenly,she approached a dead end. It was almost as if it had appeared out of nowhere. Her journey had made her so unaware of her own surroundings that she was stuck in her own fantasy which blinded her from all of reality. Reluctantly, she trudged back to the house, picking up everything she left behind on the way. She could not escape, not this time. Once again, she was imprisoned by her past.
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Nothing about her was the same. Not her smile, not her laugh, not her eyes. Those eyes... they used to be pools of endless color, but now they’re dark and cold. Thru seem so sad and sunken. You can tell she hasn’t slept properly in a long time. She’s beyond exhausted. She needs help but she’s to scared to ask or accept it. She’s lonely as hell and needs someone to love her. Not just a friendship way, but in a relationship way. She needs to be touched as if she’s a fallen cloud with an angel from Heaven resting upon it. She’s delicate but strong. The world crumbles and she shatters and has to pick up her pieces again and again. She needs someone to say her name as if it’s the most precious thing in all of eternity. She has so many problems of her own that she loathes with such a deep passion and she refuses to allow anyone to help her cope with them. Then they’d truly understand how broken she is. She can’t let anyone see the inside of her broken glass mirror self. She’s glass because she can shatter easily but she’ll hurt you if you try to mend what you broke. She’s a mirror because everything, pure and wicked reflects off of her. She is the good and bad in society. She’s the thorn on a rose that will make you bleed a bloodbath but pick it up again because of its beauty. She’s too much to handle and that’s why she’s alone.
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Why have hobbies when you could be bored for free?
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Geese
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If Sirius met you he would've stayed in Azkaban
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If you were in Azkaban I would feel bad for the dementors.
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You’re about as ugly as Snape’s hair is greasy.
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Snape sent an owl, he wants his greasy hair back.
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You’re the reason Mandrakes cry.
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You’re the definition of bloody hell.
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If Voldemort were still around, I’d tell him you were the chosen one.
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You keep talking but all I hear is Moaning Myrtle
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You suck the life out of a party like a Dementor sucks the soul out of a mouth.
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