⚡T w o

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Chapter|Two


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◐∇ Light and darknesspour through the cracks until the vesselis empty

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◐∇ Light and darkness
pour through
the cracks
until the vessel
is empty. ◐∇

|•|•|

The fall arrived with a buoyant lack of subtly, donning her most vibrant hues. The calming breeze swept into the streets and woodlands with such boldness that invited practically every eye to catch her sight, even if someone was unwilling to. The leaves were uncontrolled to dance from branch to the ground rich with the aroma, free to roam around readily.

Drifting around, the red and browns brought the same cozy quilt in peace, as we experience in the nighttime.

As it fluttered around, gently caressing everything that came into its touch, the cool sound of the air tousled my dirty blond hair, lending an imperceptible blow to my short-sleeve black tee. I took in a freshly calm air rich in oxygen, feeling the fragrance of homeliness gathered inside me.

My head whipped around the direction where I found a small girl who lived in the same neighborhood as me, wrapped up in a warm jacket. Standing on her tip-toes, she tried to smell the surrounded sweet air. I could see her black hair, flying in wild directions.

A pleasant smile lingering on my lips, I shifted my eyes to the entrance door. Holding a tight grip on the strap of my backpack and various scenarios of ungraceful memories didn't fail to plague my head as I couldn't help but clench my fists, in an efforts to not let them consume me before I violently shook my head, exhaling a sharp breath, and eventually fumbled the key into a keyhole.

In anticipation, a door got pushed by me, wide open, and relief immediately spread across my face, beads of sweat were now gone from my forehead, once I sighted nobody around the living room, yet I could hear the voices erupting from the kitchen.

Our living room was about normal size in a rectangular shape and probably the biggest room in the whole house. It was white but one of the walls was painted a pastel yellow. It also had a bookshelf in the corner which was mostly filled with my Mom's books. A comfortable gray couch was sitting low to the floor in the middle of the room.

As a middle-class family, we lived in a small part of the town in Kentucky. We had comforts for ordinary living. We didn't have a large spacious house, richly adorned with huge gardens but a well-ventilated house with sufficient accommodation was enough for our necessity.

Once I get rich enough to survive to live without my Mom, I would move out of this town and to the city straight away.

Chucking my trite black backpack, which I have been managing to retain for more than two years, letting it collide against the wall, as it produced a slight sound before falling to the ground. Rolling my eyes to myself, I made my way to the kitchen.

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