She crawled out of her hole one day by the old meadow. She was weird.. Everything she did was weird and we never could get her to talk…or even laugh. It was almost as if she wasn’t another kid at all. Or even a person. She would give me these weird items she must have considered significant or nice. But no one ever understood her and neither did I, She just held out cards, they were supposed to tell us our fortunes. She always collected strange things. Books, dead birds, and anything really. Then she just up and left. Even the huge hole she lived in, vanished.
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