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marshallsmyth

Sonia's POV 2/7/18

Feb 7th, 2018
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  13. font-family:quintessential, cursive, arial, times;font-size:200%;font-weight:bold;color:#0a1dbb;padding:20px;">Page 1
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  15. <div style="font-size:400%;text-align:center;text-shadow:7px 5px 19px skyblue">Sonia's POV</div>
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  17. <div style="font-size:250%;color:#92caff;font-family:times;"> Times font Words here </div>
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  19. There is a lot to be said about having much recall of ones previous incarnations. Mainly because not very many do, and that fact piques interest. Who remembers the point of falling asleep? Me neither. But of waking, yes. It was much like a deja vu, again. What could she be getting at you, the reader may be wondering. I was curled up and very confined, breathing warm soothing liquid when I awoke. My bones, my entire body felt rubbery, barely shaped at all. Just as it was when I was born into hell. It was less than a day of gestation. I remained relaxed, unsure of what was happening, thinking, what could be worse than the actual Hell I'd been living, enduring. Hell for one thing, is the opposite of narcissism. You're much less than nothing. I'd been in hell, and I deserved it. As a human person in my life before Hell, I was a Queen Royal, in the medieval days, and I'd done no good for the people. I was judging things poorly, taking great heed the rich were judged better than the poor, and having persons executed. Oh how I deserved my hell. No thing I may have done well can reduce the severity of the wrongs I did. Therefore, if this whatever it is happening is but part of my Hell to endure, so I must. Suddenly there was a great pressure on my head, shoulders, body, then cold instead of hot. When I was born into Hell, It was into hot. Here, I felt cold. There were voices. Two of them, muffled. I could not open my eyes, but I knew I was not in Hell. My wings were still there, but I felt more. Feathers under my hairline. I heard some names, and learned the language immediately. Rapidly. There was an Akai. Akai was my birth mother here. There was a Dr. Uncle, my father, and talk of his disguise. Red haired, beautiful and powerful magnificent Akai handed me to Dr. Uncle, who washed me so well, looked at me so tenderly. He asked me if I could speak yet. I tried to say yes. He took me to a warm snug house in a forest while it was night. Several people took turns nursing me while recorded English lessons played.
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