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Random Detective Conan ficcyKudo, hold still!
I can get up there myself, Ive climbed up higher ones than this Hattori! The Osaka-raised detective held onto his eastern equals middle and was raising him up onto a bookcase. Why the child had insisted on being there was beyond him, something about it seeming dramatic. Conan had started to climb up when Heiji had grabbed the boy and started to lift him upwards.
The boy kicked his friends wrists, Heiji was glad that his friend wasnt wearing the sneakers he had mentioned in passing. The ones that amplified his kicking power. Heiji was kneeling on the bed, lowering Conan back to the bedding. Kudo, can you imagine Ran if she knew I let you climb up without help? The boy laughed.
Hattori, who said she would know?
I did! And from what you said she could Why are you laughing? He looked at the giggling boy, who had sat onto a pillow with his laughter.
I? He a
TwistIt had to be a joke. I mean, what else could this be? Nobodys talking, nobodys face is visible, and yet theyre all commanding me to do what they want, or else, I mean since they arent actually saying anything its not clear verbally. But the fact one of them had what appeared to be a plastic bag upon the start off this whole mess, and I know for a fact that plastic plus being put over my head equals suffocation, tells me the or else. But that doesnt mean I wont fight back. I mean Id rather die before I willingly sat there and let the strange men tie me to the chair. One of them grabs me and tries to force me down. Most probably the leader since he had been the one flashing hand signs I didnt know from the drivers seat of the van as I had been forced in. My dark brown eyes look up at the man as I scream and kick. His own eyes are gray and cold, he makes a subtle gesture and another man grabs me from behin
Teenage TaoismGiving birth is the closest I’d ever felt to dying.
Before that, my near death experiences had consisted only of my silent announcement of pregnancy—silent, being that my social media accounts were all deleted almost simultaneously and I never returned to school in the fall, saying without really saying that I had caught the malicious disease of “teenage pregnancy”. I’m sure the whisper spread in the hallways like the Bubonic Plague. That September, sitting at home on what would have been the first day of my senior year, I imagined friends I’d never talk to again saying “she was only seventeen, and so full of life!” at my absence in the cafeteria tables, as if they were attending my funeral instead of talking about me behind my back.
"Full of life," I had snorted then, folding a never ending stream of what had once been my own baby clothes. "Literally."
I walked around like a zombie for the months of my pregnancy, deciding t
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