[She doesn't want to say it, and goes quiet. A terror builds quickly in her chest, her heart squeezing roughly, begging her to stop. It tells her that trust isn't enough. Friendship isn't enough. She's never told anyone who and what she was because the one time someone found out for themselves, she wound up dead.
But maybe if she had told them herself, that wouldn't have been so scared. Maybe it wouldn't have had to happen. She's had some time, now, to think about the maybes.]
I'm not like you. I'm not a real girl. Please don't be mad.
no subject
[She doesn't want to say it, and goes quiet. A terror builds quickly in her chest, her heart squeezing roughly, begging her to stop. It tells her that trust isn't enough. Friendship isn't enough. She's never told anyone who and what she was because the one time someone found out for themselves, she wound up dead.
But maybe if she had told them herself, that wouldn't have been so scared. Maybe it wouldn't have had to happen. She's had some time, now, to think about the maybes.]
I'm not like you. I'm not a real girl. Please don't be mad.