Okay, so it's 4 in the morning and I'm so stressed out it's not funny anymore. And when I'm stressed, I write.
It was a beautiful sunny morning, filled with birds chirping and little kids playing. Annatasia rose from her bed, full of energy and pep. She crossed the room, a spring in her step. She was so happy, so. . . . wonderful. Nothing could stop her, she was invincible. Except for what happened next. There stood her mom, crying, her cheeks red, her face wet. Annatasia stopped cold. What's going. . .? she asked herself. Things were really worrying her now. A sound escaped from her mother's mouth. "Huh?" she gasped, not believing her ears. "Sh-she dead!" sobbed her mother, breaking down to a blob of ruined make-up and tears.
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What would it be like to dance naked?
Letting your inner beauty shine.
But exposing your deepest secret.
But... Would it matter?
Would the music sweep the dusty thoughts from your mind?
... Would you dance?
Letting your inner beauty shine.
But exposing your deepest secret.
But... Would it matter?
Would the music sweep the dusty thoughts from your mind?
... Would you dance?