Lenora stared blankly at the notebook, torn and dusty. Her beloved relic of what remains in her dull heart. It was not a notebook of luxury , nor a notebook of high quality. Just a small handbook that one would mistake it for a homework book of a student. Her memories flew back into her tired mind, slowly, she began to weep, shaking as her beloved past and history came flowing back into her monotone coloured mind. She wanted to forget, yet she wanted to remember, forever. What pains is what that gives.
In this case, what did Lenora receive?
Her bundle of sorrow? Which includes random breakdowns and depressive moments every time she looks back into her past? Regrets that strike sharp pain straight to her heart? And all the time staying quiet just so her friends could see her as normal?
A sick joke of a life.
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