The person pulls me up and slams me against another rock, my eyes closing and my head drooping low. I try to open my eyes again to talk to Luce but can't, tired.
All you need is faith, trust, and a little bit of pixie-dust!
Swallowing, I ignore the voice and charge up as much of my power as I can. I send it straight at whatever's behind her and disintegrate, taking Halee in my arms when I reappear.
I'm never what I like I'm double sided And I just can't hide I kind of like it When I make you cry 'Cause I'm twisted up, twisted up Inside
It's a pity the dictionary has only one definition of beauty. In my world, there are 7.9 billion types of it- all different and still beautiful. — anne27