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Twisting Hearts

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My voice.

I can’t speak. I’m back inside the damned birdcage, my chilled hands clasped tightly around the gold-tinted bars. My lips are chapped than they had ever been. And my voice is in complete ruination.

He had made me sing for hours. From dusk to dawn. He hadn’t allowed me to stop even when my voice had started to crack and fade, splitting at the ends of each note. And now my voice is gone. When I speak, the words that had used to come out like the softest silk is now rough and ugly.

I still hadn’t seen Noel. It had been two days, and I wasn’t even sure if he was dead or alive. I could only do my best. But who knew if that psychopath was as good of a liar as he looked? Noel could be dead, his body buried in the snow. And I wouldn’t even know if he really was.

Frustrated tears flow out of my reddened eyes. Then I pull a fist back, slamming my closed hand around the bars. The cage shakes on its hinges. And soon, my body is shaking with silenced sobs.

Why.

Why wa
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