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Chapter 55 Fifty five

DANIELLE'S P.O.V.

Waking up with an hangover was probably the worst thing to happen to anyone in the world.

What kind of spirits exactly do they use in the production of alcohol?

Why in the world could something so sweet and bubbly be just as deadly?

I let out a sharp breath and groaned loudly as I woke up. My head felt like someone was playing on it- like it was a conga drum, my forehead felt just about ready to split open, and my tongue tasted like I had washed and rinsed it with soapy water.

What if I actually did wash my mouth with soapy water?

I pried my eyes open but I regretted doing so, closing my eyes almost immediately as the bright rays of sun light, that escaped the curtain's shield in torrents, pierced my already hurting eyes, causing my eyes to burn further, blurring my vision.

As I lay in my bed, my eyes still closed, I tried to rack my brain to recall last night's activities, but nothing was coming forth.

I say in my bed with my eyes closed for a few more minutes befor
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