Thunder raurs heavily outside. The interiors inside are brokened down, shattering dust everywhere. There stands a silhouette of what once a young nobleness, standing, just standing... You can't comprehend her expression, each movements of hers feels unnatural, as if controlled by a puppeteer. She speaks, her faltered voice creeks Your innocence inside feels so sweet... You've never suffered what true pain feels. Her voice gives you the feeling of clarity
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