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ROTG Ch. 1 The Birth of a MuseCh. 1 The Birth of a Muse
Lucy looked around the room trying to find something to slow down the two men in ski masks trying to break down the door. She needed to keep Ann's kid safe. They had been counting the donations together and Ann had stepped out to get some takeout for dinner. Penny, the child in question had grabbed the money case and was looking at her with wide fearful eyes.
"Lulu!" she screeched as the door flew off it's hinges. Lucy shoved some donation boxes in the door's general direction and sprinted to grab the tot holding the case. She snatched her up, cradling her close while she quickly searched for an exit. Just as the men were recovering she spotted the way out, a large pane of glass missing from the church's stained windows, right at the angel's feet. It would only be big enough for Penny. There was no time to look for another way out as she heard the click of a gun. Lucy ra
I Loved Her First a Mirrormask fanficI loved her first, you know, she was the whole reason I joined it, the circus that is. It was almost two years ago that I first saw them perform. I had just lost my job, I worked for a magazine company that published a bunch of avant-garde stuff and it just ran itself into the ground, so I decided to take a stroll about town. There was a bit of a crowd gathering down by an old empty field, so I had thought to take a look and see what the fuss was about. When I got closer I saw a huge colorful tent and random people in masks running about and keeping everyone in line entertained while they waited. I knew I should've been saving my money, but I was sad and I really just needed it.
So I joined the line and silently purchased a ticket, from an older woman, at the booth outside the tent. Then I made my way inside and got a decent seat towards the front. I really enjoyed it all, the laughter, music, and cheers from the crowd were all familiar and welcoming. (I would sometimes perform tricks
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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