frostclaw22

Ivan stood up for what felt like the first time in weeks, he could feel the blessing give way. It was as though a constricting band had been lifted from his chest. He walked over to the bars, his heart set on throwing them as far away as he could. Being cooped up had not taken a toll on his strength, but the hunger had. No matter, he could still do considerable damage. He was about to grab them when he heard the footsteps. The shorter blonde with the British drawl descended the stairs and walked up to the cell. Ivan smirked when he noticed a red mark on the man's neck "Nice love bite, although mine are usually a bit harder. Let me guess, tha

i. You are born with twisted feet and a pockmark on your chest. Your poor mother is drenched in sweat, straining to breathe, thanking God that it's over. She cradles you in her arms and kisses your forehead with curved lips. Your father reaches out to hold you but has to pause because your mother will not release you yet. The family pays a visit, hovering in awe, praising, laughing. You look around for someone to blame. ii. When you learn to write you use all the wrong letters because you feel sorry for the ones that get left out, like X and Z. And you wear mismatched clothes because you don't like the idea that only certain colors "go t