She Is Well Practiced In The Art

I Wish We Were Alone,” He Says. “i Almost Always Wish That,” I Say.

I’m Not Anyone,” He Says. “i’m Nobody. That’s What Being Factionless Is.

It Reminds Me That No Embrace Will Ever Feel The Same Again, Because No One Will Ever Be Like Her Again, Because She's Gone. She's Gone, And Crying Feels So Useless, So Stupid, But It's All I Can Do.

Just Because They Didn’t Shoot You All In The Head Doesn’t Mean Their Intentions Were Somehow Honorable. Why Do You Think They Came Here? Just To Run Through Your Hallways, Knock You Conscious, And Leave?

I Understand Why She Did All Those Things, But That Doesn't Mean We Aren't Still Broken.