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HER

Aвтор: Farah Daher
last update Последнее обновление: 2024-10-29 19:42:56

"Dad, I love you." I sobbed as I reached my hand to touch the side of his cheek. He smiled and took my hand in his.

"I love you too, princess." He simply said with sparkling eyes. He looked like an angel.

"What am I supposed to do without you?" I whimpered out. He rubbed my palm to comfort me and said.

"Keep playing the piano."

The sorrowful trees surrounded the house blew against the wind as leaves fell from their places and the wind was ruthless. I stared at the window to the view of Michigan bare streets and the sad drifting leaves.

I then averted my eyes to the broken boy that laid with his eyes closed. I smiled a bit at the stubborn boy that f

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    The soothing finger brushes my hand had played on the piano was like an electric stroke to my heart as the emotions came to life and whirled around me. I was here in my second home, Michigan school. They had the music room open from the morning till the evening and it was all for me, the black grand piano was there for me and for my mother, who died promising me that she could watch me play. She was a no-show and dad had to tell me that she died when I was seven years old, playing on the same piano."You're still here." Alexa Jones whined at me. I flushed red as she pestered me about having the social life everyone was in. Aside from my insecurity that differentiated me from the gorgeous brunette that was my best friend, she was there for me when my mom was gone, we were kindergarten best friends and remained to be, even in our senior year. She had a bright big dimple on her left tanned

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Latest chapter

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    Rayna Harrington I wept sadly like my bruised skin—beatings from my mom were usually worst than now. As I remained sat while she just did the unthinkable, I thought about my life in a broader, more crystalline picture. My cries simmered down when she finished, hugging my knees and trying not to show her my weakness. This was the calamitous parts of life – parts where I just wanted to stand out from the different oceans of all types of people, but according to my mom, it was sinful and unwelcomed in her family. The contentment of how it felt to hold my secret gold microphone I had spent my savings on was indescribable; it was simply the epitome of pure

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