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Dungeons are Dark and SlimyShe giggled.
"What are you giggling for? I can't see a bloody thing."
Another giggle. "Of course you can't, stupid. What did you expect?"
She was annoying as hell. "You'd think they'd at least give us some light down here."
"It's a dungeon. That would defeat the purpose."
"Why would that defeat the purpose?" I shouted, feeling my hand along the wall to explore. The experience showed that it was a small dungeon. Small and slimy. I automatically moved to wipe my hand on my shirt, only to remember that it was gone. The thought pissed me off, it had been my favorite shirt.
"...and the dark also adds to the spooky atmosphere of being thrown into the dungeon," she was saying. She was obnoxiously hard to ignore.
I figured it would be a good time to interrupt her. "This is your first time being thrown in a dungeon, isn't it?"
She sounded dejected about being interrupted. Good. "Sure, but that makes it all the more exciting!" the girl blurted. If only she knew how ridiculous she sounded.
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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