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Espejo, Cap. 6
Espejo, Cap. 6
Fionna se despertó lentamente, y cuando acabó de abrir los ojos, notó el sol en su piel. Entraba por una ventana, se podía ver el paisaje. Giró la cabeza hacia ella y creyó que aún estaba soñando. Todo eran casas de caramelo, galletas o turrón. Igual que la gente que andaba. Oyó voces y miró de donde procedían. Había un tio rosa hablando con un helado el cual llevaba una bata de medico. El helado se despidió y se fue. El rosa se giró hacia ella, y cuando vió que estaba despierta la ayudó a incorporarse. Parece que creyó que algo iba mal y Gumball le preguntó si se encontraba bien. Fionna, aún en shock, dijo:
-Pero como...? Si eres igual que mi novio! -Gumball no se esperaba eso, en absoluto-
-Q-q-que? Novio? -Fionna estaría de broma ¿no? Si ella tuviese novio, se lo hubiese dicho, son amigos...-
-Por que te sorprende tanto? Y si... eres muy p
Scars of the Past- AT Fan fic- Prolouge
I loved him once, but now it's time. He's got to die.
As I walked down the path of jagged rock, I surveyed my horrid surroundings. On either of my sides lay mile high pillars crafted from the bones of the dead, stacked atop each other, a vine of poison ivy wrapped around each pillar. The red sky above, filled with clouds of flame and poison gas, seemed to be sucking in any life there was in the terrible place. The plumes of lava erupting from cracks in the rock, how did they not burn me, but the sun did? The road stretching in front of me was completely red from blood, and the smell of death swirled around me. I can't believe I liked it.
It's hard to believe I didn't die right there, even though I am semi-immortal. I couldn't control the gushing of blood from the scar on my neck, and the pain was like that of a herd of antelope running over me. My hand was stained from the blood, and I needed another way to try to stop the bleeding. I ripped off a piece of my already torn shirt, and wr
Teenage TaoismGiving birth is the closest I’d ever felt to dying.
Before that, my near death experiences had consisted only of my silent announcement of pregnancy—silent, being that my social media accounts were all deleted almost simultaneously and I never returned to school in the fall, saying without really saying that I had caught the malicious disease of “teenage pregnancy”. I’m sure the whisper spread in the hallways like the Bubonic Plague. That September, sitting at home on what would have been the first day of my senior year, I imagined friends I’d never talk to again saying “she was only seventeen, and so full of life!” at my absence in the cafeteria tables, as if they were attending my funeral instead of talking about me behind my back.
"Full of life," I had snorted then, folding a never ending stream of what had once been my own baby clothes. "Literally."
I walked around like a zombie for the months of my pregnancy, deciding t
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