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Clarity
Eight years ago.
Kagome rubbed the dual throb away from her abdomen.
It came more frequently.
But she never went to the doctors', maybe it was the years of never going to one (just eating an herb would make everything go away) but she didn't trust them.
So she never thought of a check up.
She still received royalties and fan mail (forwarded from her publishers).
Kagome would laugh when people would try to guess who she was—she did hide her identity well.
But her book would periodically hit the number one best seller then fall.
Like her life.
Kagome felt sicker nowadays.
She chalked it up to karma, for years saying she was sick when she wasn't must have been bad karma.
At least she told herself that was it.
And didn't dwell on the fact that she was nearing the age her father died at.
It scared her when nothing else had scared her.
When she would sip at her tea, watching the stars for a falling one, she would ask for him.
Of course she knew he wouldn't come.
But sometimes it made her feel young and foolish again.
Then the next day she would go to work.
And write more lists.
And letters.
But she never sent them anywhere.
She wondered what she would do with them but then she would just continue to write.
And slowly turn up the song that was playing.
Noise drowned out the thoughts in her head.
Which was way she slept with her music player on.
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End chapter.
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