Yesterday the usual warmth given by the young lady's eyes was not
felt. The happiness she would spread ceased to exist. Her joy and love
had disappeared.
Instead what was present was the horrible feeling of sadness.
Something was weighing down her shoulders, so low that I could never
bare to even contemplate removing the burden to aid the dying soul
within.
All that had been done was not to fix her. Fear was holding me back.
How could she be spoken to at a time like now?
Staring, but not daring to speak.
Beauty was still present, but she was damaged and there could be
nothing done to mend her.
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Dysfunctional_Hooker
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