Red Door
The sun was warm, and the air smelled of the sea. I knew this place. It was the hill above my childhood home. The grasses were green, and the bougainvillea was in full bloom. The air was crisp and a mist of sea salt was on the breeze.
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Hell is Not a Place, Part I
All that show did was drive a larger wedge between us. At least now I know who truly cares for me, even if I feel used for it. It is and always has been the mischief family I had made.