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Sunday, October 18, 2009,

Chapter 21: Strand-mission

My pupils narrow. How could I be so careless?

I draw a fake smile on my face. “I need to go do something, please excuse me,” I get on my feet and stride out of the room.

Later that night, I sneak out of my apartment my dagger and other…various equipment. That strand of hair…I must get it back.

***

I hate my hair. Why must it be blond?

Ashamed.

Yes, I feel ashamed of it.

Why do I bear this resemblance to my father?

He was nothing.

I am nothing.

11:23 PM



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