BREE
The wall was white but the light from the lamp gave it a blueish tone, like a baby blue sort of tone, funnily enough, it matched the weather. The rain started early that morning, stopped for a few hours and it kept raining all noon. Now it was night, a cold one for the matter, which was curious because we were at the end of the spring. It was as if the weather was going alone with my emotions. The rain stood for my sadness- an unexplainable one, the origin of it unknown to me. The thunders for my rage- everything these people have told me was so hard to believe and confusing, along with the things that apparently my old self had done. And it crossed my mind what possible went through my head.
Who knew, they could have been lying, making everything up to convince me from being on the
