There's some kinds of hate that wash off like dirt in the shower, and there's others that go deep that you can't dig it out without killing the wounded heart it's wrapped around.

She wore Angry like a mask and Vengeance as a necklace, barbed wire around her ankle while she hunted us down one by one.

We knew she was coming for us. Like a force of nature, there wasn't a damn thing we could do but dig deeper and pray she passed overhead.

Someone calls you. Your phone's set to vibrate, but it rattles loud.

Did she hear?

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