But for a while, they'd taken away all my best pencils. They said something strange about not wanting me playing with sharp objects. During that time ...hen I didn't have my pencils, I had to write down my stories using crayons. I liked the pink one better than any of the others, but then the damn maggots broke it.After that, they laughed at me.I was so mad at them for breaking my crayon, but after a little nap I felt a lot better.However, I still don't know why I took that nap, but I was really. With sudden stark realization she remembered pulling her hand from around him. Her hand must have been on his back, too. Where those scars were ... the scars she had imagined touching. She had touched them last night. She must have. But she couldn’t remember that part. She’d had the chance to feel those terrible scars, but couldn’t remember doing so. She felt a sense of loss.There was a tap at the door. He didn’t just come in this time. She realized he was waiting for permission, so she called. More

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