Dreamwriter89
There was no longer any stencil to her life to keep the lines in place. The keep the drawing in some recognizable form. Her life had no recognizable form, and she hated it. She hated it every night that she would dream of them, she hated it every days she had to g and talk about them to her therapist. she wished she could forget them. But she knew, no matter what, that that would never be possible.