The mist covered the ground like the white veil over a new bride's face. The air was thick with smoke - smelling of death and decay. The birds were no longer singing their sweet songs, nor were there any immediate signs of life in the area. The charred ground crunched under my feet and I realized it was the only sound I could hear in the eerie silence. I looked up at the once milky moon and cringed at its new bright crimson color. What could've possibly caused the moon to turn blood red? I thought to myself as I continued to walk cautiously through the unrecognizable forest.
You know what, Abigail? You__e right__t is selfish. But there__ nothing inherently immature about making a selfish choice. It is hard to put what you know is right for you first, when you know people you love don__ respect your choices. It is hard to say __hat I want is worthy._ It is hard to say __ know myself and what I need, even if everyone else thinks otherwise._ Don__ tell me this is immature when it took me months of thinking about it every damn day to make this choice.
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You know what, Abigail? You__e right__t is selfish. But there__ nothing inherently immature about making a selfish choice. It is hard to put what you know is right for you first, when you know people you love don__ respect your choices. It is hard to say __hat I want is worthy._ It is hard to say __ know myself and what I need, even if everyone else thinks otherwise._ Don__ tell me this is immature when it took me months of thinking about it every damn day to make this choice.
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