the despair of tomorrow. XVIII

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Weeks passed,

and it was already her first month in the hospital.

She knew to herself that she won't be able to attend

school for the time being.

Her mother agreed with her decision to take a break
from school.

There was also the thing about her being in the dancing club of their school—

She had to quit there as well.

She was already resting for a month,

but she felt as though something was still being taken from her as each day passes.

Whenever she would remember what happened,

she would be awashed by negative thoughts.

However, she knew she couldn't do anything.

Deep inside, she knew she wouldn't be able to live the

same life she's led a few months prior.

She grasped her legs tightly with her hands.

"Mom," she muttered.

Her mother put down the book that she was reading.

"Hm? What is it, honey?"



"I want to live again."

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