"I told you that I was going to save him," my mother snapped, brushing the dirt of her red sundress, unbeknownst to the twig sticking out of her hair. She looked like a mad woman and she sounded like one too. "He is beyond saving," I gritted out in pain as I straightened my body. My shoulder was in a strange position which could only mean one thing. It was dislocated. "You know nothing," my mother spat angrily. "Yeah, I wonder why," I replied sassily, walking towards a tree. I leaned my shoulder against it and sighed. I might even hurt myself more. "And what is that supposed to mean? I don't even recognize you anymore," she said in her pissed off, 'I'm going to whoop your ass' tone. I turned towards her, leaning my back against the tree. My hand was trembling and the hellhound scratch still hurt really badly. I couldn't push my shoulder back into place without possibly causing myself more harm so I would rely on telekinesis to do the job. I exhaled slowly while staring at m
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