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Five sat on the edge of her bed, miserable as a wet cat in a monsoon.
It wasn't fair.
It wasn't like she WANTED kids or anything.
None of the others had to deal with this...this...THING.
Words failed her. Five wasn't sure if she wanted to scream or cry or go beat up Tres with her guitar. Or all of the above.
Her cheeks were hot and her stomach was cramped and...and it felt like her insides were being scraped out with a rusted ice cream scoop.
Joy.
It wasn't fair.
It wasn't like she WANTED kids or anything.
None of the others had to deal with this...this...THING.
Words failed her. Five wasn't sure if she wanted to scream or cry or go beat up Tres with her guitar. Or all of the above.
Her cheeks were hot and her stomach was cramped and...and it felt like her insides were being scraped out with a rusted ice cream scoop.
Joy.
