I'd Like To Thank Readers. Every Time

We Are English, And I Expect You To Behave As Such. No More Crying.

Her Eyes Take On That Suspicious, Wounded Look Girls Get When They Know They've Fallen Off The Top Rung Of Friendship And Someone Else Has Passed Them, But They Don't Know When Or How The Change Took Place.

I Can See His Pain, See It In The Way He Runs His Fingers Through His Hair, Over And Over, And I Understand What It Costs Him To Hide It All.

How Do People Stay In Love, Anyway? Is It A Choice? Or Is It Like Those Plants We Studied In Biology That Mutate Into Something New And Totally Different But Are Still Part Of The Same Plant Family?

What If Evil Doesn't Really Exist? What If Evil Is Something Dreamed Up By Man, And There Is Nothing To Struggle Against Except Out Own Limitations? The Constant Battle Between Our Will, Our Desires, And Our Choices?