She walked slowly, the sound of her shoes crunching the leaves beneath her. Her dark, brown curls fell on to her shoulders, and her snow-white skirt blew in the wind. To a passer-by, she was simply a stranger. A beautiful stranger, in fact, but in reality, her soul was darker than the night of a new moon. Nobody knew what she had done. The cute, innocent farm girl was not as virtuous as she seemed.

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mziehope (joined about 10 years ago)

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