Oftentimes, it simply makes one more accepting, with the in their eye blinding them temporarily to the faults they usually won’t find acceptable.
Rose was ten the first time she had a glimpse of The Book. She knew that the chest was to come to her - it was passed on to the eldest child of the current holder - but it was only on that spring afternoon that she was able to take a look at what’s inside.
Turns out, everyone else’s secrets are too much for me.
Each dot represents a year of life.
The colour of her blood was the least of my worries, though.
A part but apart
It's very admirable, if a bit misinformed.
And now the idiot fish died and all I’m left with are fucking spiders.
There was an odd knocking on the door.
I am Death and I am inevitable.