I lean my head back against the wall, another wave of not being able to breathe. I hate being so weak and sick all the time, I’m a good fighter but only for short periods of time before my lungs give out. Dammit. I walk to the woods to ease my anger, taking in the beauty. I’ve always been cold and tired with everyone but I love the woods. Although I hate people, horrible, all of them. Suddenly I catch sight of something in the woods, a soft breeze brushes my hair against my face
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