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Alive Again

Parting her thickened wet eyelashes, the beams of the moonlight seeping through the large framed window kissed her face as she sighed.

So slowly, she properly began showering with mind torn between two unsettling topics — Doreen's absence and Francess' presence.

No… It would've been swell if the two ballet dancers didn't meet — ever again. Back then — their past, although unresolved, wasn't so hurting Tessa; it was never this bad.

Confrontations were a lethal catalyst; she assumed leaving Europe would prevent the scene that occurred a few hours ago but….

“I should've never started dancing. Fuck!” Slamming her hand hard on the glass walls encasing her, frustration morphed into liquid, took the place of blood in her veins and circulated unwantingly yet unceasingly in her entire being.

Back then, guilt was always beside her — making living hard, but gingerly, Tessa realized better than any she didn't feel guilty. She felt stupid for befriending the brown haired — Francesca D'Arcy on
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