Aneshia  Tolliver

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When I finally catch my breath, I push off from the wall and… there’s something sticky on my hand. I look down. The palm of my hand is red. Not red from cold or heat. No, it's drenched in liquid, deep red, thick, and sticky, and it drips down my wrist. It smells metallic and vivid. It’s blood.
Aneshia  Tolliver
OH MY GOD NOOO
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