(I don't know what I'm doing...)

She was getting tired of the pitying looks; eyes pinched and lips drawn to form a frown. She hated that look; hated giving it, seeing it, but mostly, she hated receiving it. She didn't need their pity.

Her sister had been dead for over four months now and she was doing better. It was easier getting up in the mornings and she no longer felt like the world was slowly closing in on her, collapsing over top of her. Life went on, she soon learned, whether she was all alone in the world or had her sister for company.

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