Broken Angel (Part 2, page 2 of 6)


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Part 2

It was May ninth, of two-thousand-eleven. I was in the fifth grade. I didn’t know what I was doing. I didn’t know what or where I was going. All that I knew, was that the train I was on, was never going to stop, and let me have a break.

I watched the rest of my musical art mates practicing for a concert that night. Some were vocal, and then some were instruments.

My real talent was in my English skill, my vocals, and imagination compatibility. I was able to create the most beautiful stories that people in my family, (My older brother, Isaac.) said they had ever heard, or even read. Isaac loved me. He was always there for me. Up until we were separated. Isaac when with our dad, and I stayed with our mom.

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