She is slumped in a dark, desolate alley as inky blackness spread in the sky above. It bled into the reds and oranges of sunset, tiny pinpricks of stars sprinkled in the thick quagmire of darkness. She sniffles, rubbing her nose with the back of her hand, smearing fresh blood on her sleeve. Feiyn hiccuped quietly, trying not to cry. “Feiyn hate dem! Hate dem kids! She can’t help da way she looks! She wishes dey were dead! Dead!” Feiyn bitterly hisses, smearing blood across her upper lip, across her cheek.

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