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Vivid DreamsA woman dressed in white led me to a classroom. Her face was covered by a solid white mask but her hair was dark brown. The classroom was abnormal, the desks were very few, but they were against the walls, but the walls had boxes on them. They looked to be drawn by the students with crayons or coloured pencils, but it was just her and I.
She handed me a pencil and spoke softly, "What is a traitor? Draw it for me."
I hesitated, but grabbed the pencil and pressed it against the wall. These walls were not what they felt like. A smooth, unpainted surface, almost wood-like, but they were white. "How bizarre.", I thought. I began to draw with detail. My arm tired of this, and I stopped.
"You wrote down a speech bubble. Read it to me."
I read it silently to myself, "You traitor! You take my love and leave me half-full!"
She spoke softly again, "Ah, very good. Now describe your drawing."
I thought once more, "It's my fursona, giving her essence to this love. She gives it it's
Teenage TaoismGiving birth is the closest I’d ever felt to dying.
Before that, my near death experiences had consisted only of my silent announcement of pregnancy—silent, being that my social media accounts were all deleted almost simultaneously and I never returned to school in the fall, saying without really saying that I had caught the malicious disease of “teenage pregnancy”. I’m sure the whisper spread in the hallways like the Bubonic Plague. That September, sitting at home on what would have been the first day of my senior year, I imagined friends I’d never talk to again saying “she was only seventeen, and so full of life!” at my absence in the cafeteria tables, as if they were attending my funeral instead of talking about me behind my back.
"Full of life," I had snorted then, folding a never ending stream of what had once been my own baby clothes. "Literally."
I walked around like a zombie for the months of my pregnancy, deciding t
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