Ｐｒｏｌｏｇｕｅ: Youth
Thinking of it so suddenly, they say that within years, you become messed up. At the time, we were young and had nothing to fear.
But . . .
That summer.0
In a disorganized apartment, a (H/C) haired figure closely watched her reflection mirror her actions. Her finger lightly smudging a thin layer of color on her lips.0
Centering around boughs twisting like contorted bones, in the midst of cold stones marking homelessness a figure hid his hatred for life itself.0
Surrounded by the aroma of different kinds of medicines, a towering figure aimlessly walked around before pleasingly hiding away his findings in a briefcase.0
That summer, without notice, we were filled with youth for the very last time . . .0
![[Moving to Galatea] What We Never Healed](https://cdn-gcs.inkitt.com/vertical_storycovers/ipad_b00b828931c645f2eccdf3396cb15498.jpg)
