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π™Άπš’πš™πšœπš’ π™ΊπšŽπš—πš—πšŽπšπš’

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September 19th, 2019


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Gender: Female
Status: Swinger
Age: 18
Country: United States

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April 15, 2019


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07/11/2019 02:21 PM 

No longer made of substance
Category: Blogging
Current mood:  distressed

Image result for female shadow in the mirror


Over time they came to the realization she was no longer made of substance, but something more like a shadow. 

The young blond stood in front of the full-length mirror watching the image in front of her. She wasn't the same. Her features had changed in recent months. Her once oceanic blue hues dimmed. Dark circles formed rings around the sockets, and the honey-colored strands of hair, dull and lifeless. She searched the mirror for herself, but all she found was a skeleton encased in pain. Would she ever be free again? They say that time heals all wounds, but they never tell you how deep the scars will be on your soul.  

He was dead and gone, but the dreams of her father ran marathons in her mind. It was only at night when the house echoed with silence did the fear come racing back. He told her many times she would never be released from a fathers love, but this isn't loving. It was an obsession. Everything she had been told about her father's death was suspicious. She knew who killed him, but was this a sick joke. Was he really dead and buried? The funeral would lead you to believe that, but itching in the back of her cranium there was a little bug that whispered doubts about his death. 

Did night come fast these days? Wasn't summer suppose to be the longest days? It no longer felt like she could stay safe in the light of the day. Darkness came swift, and her pulse raced with fear. Not until she was barely a teen did this fear of the night time settling into her bones. The first night she woke to the silhouette of him in her room. Her fathers. The kind of man that implanted fear in the minds of children. Dare she call him what he was? 

Shaking her head, her skin prickled with fear of the past. Once again he was stealing her peace of mind. Eyes are drawn back to the girl in the mirror, she would call her Beth. Poor little Beth who the world hated. If the truth was told, she hated her as well. Beth was her alter ego, the victim, the one who would never find her smile again. She was dead to Gypsy but never forgotten. Almost thought of like the little girl no one wanted.  

Without thinking, she reached to the side, flipping the light switch to the downward position. She had seen enough of the shadow in the mirror. There was nothing left of the girl she once was, so why keep looking for signs of life she would never find. Beautiful Beth was DOA!

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