In school, she painted smiles. At home, at night, she waited for floorboards to creak outside her door, for her door to open. Outside, children waited for birthdays, the Easter Bunny, and Santa on his sled. Inside, she waited for the trauma to end. While she waited, she hoped for the help that looked away. After surviving, she went away, found a way to heal one scar at a time. ©January 2018, January 2022 Christina Anne Hawthorne
Christina Anne Hawthorne
Alive and well in the Rocky Mountains. I'm a fantasy writer who also dabbles in poetry, short stories, and map making. My Ontyre tales are an alternative fantasy experience, the stories rich in mystery, adventure, and romance. Alternative fantasy? Not quite steampunk. Not quite gothic. In truth, the real magic is in those who discover what's within.
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