I’ve been having dubious thoughts about Kaza lately.
I stood staring at the Evil, only this time, it was staring back at me. Apparently when they’re alive, their eyes come back. I really wish they wouldn’t. It was trapped inside a large, green birdcage, with its face pushed to the limit against the bars. The Evil maintained a frozen smile as it glanced fervently between me and Kaza.
I stood still, watching. Perhaps it was a survival mechanism, from when my mother was on the Outside: Don’t move, just watch. I think that’s what separates me from Kaza, who was casually but nonetheless picking at her nails. A classic sign of anxiety.
I turned my gaze to t...
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