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Equilibrio-Ref Sheet

46. ReflectionI think God wants me to die. I don't want to die. I can't do that to my father.46. Reflection
Thirteen year old Kelly Ryan sat in the backseat of a green sedan. Her father was driving, and her mother sat almost sideways in the passenger seat next to him. The trio was protected from the pouring rain by four glass windows, rolled up as far as they could go. The water came in buckets from the darkened sky, throwing the windshield wipers into a fury that would remain constant until the last teardrop shed from Mother Nature's tear ducts landed safely in a nest on the ground.
All I see is white on white. I think they're all
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Vertigo II
Vertigo I

81. A Place to BelongNext town. New state. New faces, buildings, and names to learn. Most importantly, a new start. New clients, new looks, new everything. A clean slate. That was, until someone became suspicious and started asking questions about the new kid in town. Today she was blond. Tomorrow she might be a red-head, possibly a darker color like black. No one ever knew until they spotted her. If they spotted her. For Emily Chase was no longer Emily Chase. She had taken a pair of scissors to her once long hair, and traded her clothes for that of her cousins, a boy one year older. Her name was different, masculine. Her fathe81. A Place to Belong


94. RealityA knock. Hard knuckle on hard wood coming together in a clash creating a sound that bounced wall to wall into each room in the small home. A man, woman, and child looked up at the sound as it spat into the living room. Interesting. Someone was calling on them? Surprised at the sudden disturbance, both mother and father walked to the door and opened it slowly. The small child, Emily Chase, stood up slowly, forgetting the small teddy bear that was at her side. Tossed up in a pink dress, frilled at the bottom with a bow here and there, and pigtails, she could easily have been a fruit salad. Or at least according to her pa94. Reality
Beware the dark...

58. Heartfelt ApologyTilting his head slightly, William sighed. The night air was still, and the near night owl could be heard. The owl would have to wait. More important things were at hand at the moment. Smoothing out the parchment in front of him, he started to write. Dearest Missus, It is of my deepest sadness to inform you of a terrible deed. Perhaps you may have received some form of notification, but my highest doubts ride with that suggestion. If my dully noted suspicions are correct, just by the first few lines of this horrific letter I have you shaken with worry and fear. Fear and despair that I am afraid to say is complete58. Heartfelt Apology


50. Party"Aw... C'mon, Bail, please?" A sixteen year old actor, Michael Joice, was following his friend across the stage, full costume. He could have been performing for an audience. He wasn't. "It's just an after-party. Promise." 'Just an after party' meant one thing. Drugs, Sex, and Alcohol. The way of many actors. "Michael..." The start of Bailey's protest was cut short by her thoughts. She still had a list to complete by the end of the year, and it was almost over. 3 names remained. Kale Castro. Gay straight or taken, no one really knew. In a normal environment, he was really shy, almost invisible. But in the last Shakespea50. Party


69. ShatteredAugust 30th, 1862: The worst day of my life. The sun was out; its bright face casting the three oclock shadow across the land. Manassas wasnt too far away, and neither was Bull Run. But the north and south knew that anyways. They had named it, and they had fought it. But what business was that of mine? Why should I know the reason I butcher and kill like a beast? I shouldnt. The sun moved again. It must have been in the fourth hour of the day. The tree no longer stood in the suns way, and it hit me full on. My eyes couldnt take it anymore and I looked away, a sharp pain f69. Shattered


73. PatienceAching finger poised at the trigger of a browning tactical elite, Nick Creswell was in wait. Had been for a while now, and the sweat forming across the brow of his black hair. His mind was noting an approximate vector for the wind, second nature after many years behind the scope. Time had long since passed four hours since Nick had taken the flight of steps two at a time to get to the roof, and anxiety was rising. Four hours was much too long to wait for one shot, and firing at anything that moved to kill boredom was deathly hazardous. Heaving a deep sigh, he shifted his uncomfortable position on the cement to one that was h73. Patience
I'm in love...
What not to do...

44. At peacePulling himself weakly to his feet, the wounded man staggered into the lobby of the hotel he had known for so long. A cheaper, friendlier place known as Harmony Inn. The door wasn't one of those revolving types, nor a sliding glass door. No, Harmony Inn was just as the name implied. A peaceful, older place that was owned by an older woman and her late husband. But who cared about a hotel? Who cared about the place they were going? Not many. Including one Ty Jensen. A man soaked to the bone in water and his own blood. A gentleman that shouldn't have moved from where he was, on a cold ceramic floor in the middle of an abandone44. At peace