Sylvie's p.o.v
I am constantly beating a dead horse.
I can't shake off this feeling that my
pain and sorrow will increase. It doesn't make
any sense to you as why everything is up in flames.
It doesn't make any sense to you as to why my
dreams have died. Maybe my hands and womb
are cursed. All you that you can say, "I am
sorry for your loss".