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The Wicked House
All she thought about that delicious Saturday was the day she would finally be free to leave that place. The neverending smell of burned rubber, old tarnish nails, how could this place bring her such happiness yet so much mental anguish. But could she free herself willingly to part from this? It would haunt her the rest of her existence, rot her from the mere chance of looking at life with gratitude. This child would someday live a normal life, just not yet....she had to leave this place full of dark shadows disguising itself in angelic laughter.
© Clara12