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Weekly Contest #303
When my hands were coated with blood for the first time since I left, I knew he couldn’t be forgiven. The beautiful girl I made a promise to marry laid lifeless on our living room floor. Her long black hair spread beneath her like ink spilled on paper . Onyx eyes that you could get lost in for hours stared blankly at the ceiling, forever looking at nothing. The ocean blue dress she’d just bought that day for our dinner reservation was soaked in her own blood. The gold necklace holding a charm of her birth flower – a daffodil for March – was ...
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