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…
…
Again, I can't sleep.
I toss and turn, but nothing resembling rest comes to me.
It's already deep into the night, and the moon is high in the air.
I really should be asleep, but I can't.
The silk is soft, but it feels foreign.
I would usually smell the scent of sweet vanilla on my pillows, but they smell like a perfume of different flowers.
I still can't believe that I've gone through a whole day here. I can hardly believe that an entire day has passed by.
Looking at my hand- Rosanna's hand, it's pretty and well-manicured, but it isn't mine.
I frown as the realization returns my mind to the conversation from this afternoon.
Burned at the stake. If other people were to find out, there's a possibility of being burned at the stake.
["What- why would we- but aren't we the victims?"]