98. juxtapose

Cold hands; warm face.
Word Count: 4

97. 3 against 1

"We made up our minds."

"It was a unanimous decision."

"Yup. Unanimous."

"But-"

"Oh no, you don't get to argue anymore."

"We considered your arguments already."

"And unfortunately, we didn't agree."

"Don't I get a chance to-?"

"Nope."

"Nope."

"Sorry."

"What's the use of having three parents if none of them ever agree with you?"
Word Count: 55

96. Schoolyard bullying

The worst thing was when she scoffed. The folded arms she could deal with, and she could most definitely handle the cold looks. But a scoff by this woman's lips meant more than anything she could say. That she was deemed a failure. And beyond that, she was deemed a joke; "I mean, what kind of mother barters and bargains with their own child?"

"The smart kind." She said strongly; boldly. Because somehow it felt good to call the other woman stupid.
Word Count: 82

95. Something of your own

I have a sister. She is significantly younger than I. And she is also adopted.

Even so, I've never felt the innate desire to return home. The act is often forced upon me. So I do visit from time to time, mainly at their request.

She...

I would describe her as an open book; her emotions and expressions are easily readable. She loves to smile. She loves the nearby city. Every time she writes, she says she has a new story to tell me. And every time I visit, I hear them. When she asks how I am, I am never sure what to tell her.

So I give her a smile and find a new way to say that all is well. And that nothing has changed.

Admittedly, I still struggle to see her as my sister. And yet she accepts the relationship as if we were blood-born relatives. But nothing ties us aside from the fact that our adoptive parents are the same parents. To me, that fact establishes nothing. My adoptive parents know this. But they seem to think they know why; that they have all the answers.

They often argue that the military has taken me from them. I haven't the heart to tell them that I was never theirs to begin with.
Word Count: 217

94. He did what?

"Yeah, but listen." She rebuffed quickly, threatening to walk out by just the tone of her voice. "It's not as bad as it sounds, okay? He made a mistake. He didn't mean it. I can't say anymore than that. And y'know what? I shouldn't have to. Because I don't have to explain myself to you, and neither does he." She paused briefly, waving her hands in front of her face; she wasn't done yet, "And I know. I know. You think you're helping. But you're not. You're just... Making it worse."
Word Count: 91

93. Do you?

He leaned in, breathing quietly; "You know how much you mean to me, right?"

"I know you like me a lot." She replied, stopping long enough to yawn, "And I know I care for you a very great deal."
Word Count: 39

92. In my room

She's... Dancing.

Slow circles around the small amount of floor space. Spinning from one side to the other with a controlled motion.

I laugh. Not at her, really. At the situation.

And then she laughs, as if to brush off some kind of embarrassment. But the colour's in her cheeks, and I've already seen it. So she asks if she should leave.

But I'm not complaining, am I.
Word Count: 68