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God Of MaliceGod Of Malice
By: Rina Kent

90

At the violent waves crashing against the harsh rocks, at how much the water has turned them sharp, steep—a natural wonder that’s able to steal lives. And be the site of a fucked-up encounter. Grandpa was right—as usual. The more I think about my friendship with Devlin, the more it doesn’t feel like a friendship. He definitely didn’t feel happy for me like Cecily, Ava, Remi, and even Annika do when I tell them about something that’s made me happy. Not to mention that he always loved to talk about himself, how he was an orphan, how he battled with depression his entire life, and how no one understood him. I always listened to him because I thought we were kindred spirits and shared the same issues. Our identities are misunderstood. Our depression is overlooked. But now, I don’t know anymore. I think his death hit me harder because I was right here when it happened. Right beside him in the car. The wind flips my hair back as memories from that night hit me. “Come with me, Glyn,” he said.

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