...
7:18 a.m.

The night was filled with blood...and the cool darkness of autumn was engulfing and soothing and beautiful like the smoke from our mouths, from the joints, thick and pungent with the smell. What was I thinking then? Fear touches my heart with the sharp end of a safety pin when I think about that girl. Who she was. Is she still here? Locked up somewhere waiting patiently to be freed by one miscalculation? Yes, I'm terrified. That night seemed one of black magic and retaliation...especially from my viewpoint now. I chose. I chose the night, I chose the moon, I chose him...and I chose wrong. Now all that's left is this trembling, and this regret...and sudden memories of blood.

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