Ne’er had she felt as urgent as she did there on her knees, her breathing weakening as she felt her heart fail.

She scrabbled for the notebook on her desk & shakily picked up her pen.

I just need to–just need to write a few words.

But when she kept trying to write on the slippery paper, he pen kept jerking to & fro, forcing her to try ‘gain & ‘gain & ‘gain.

All she got down was a sloppy-to-almost-incomprehensible “Lacresha Kirkpatrick’s Will” ‘fore she collapsed onto her back, staring up @ the image o’ her 2 favorite orphans @ the orphanage with crumpling horror in her eyes.


Throat, Tic, Vellum