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Notes: Disjointed, dis-everything random piece that has absolutely nothing to do with the half page of planning I had. Written in a politics lecture, as if that excuses it. Title blatantly stolen from a summary of sezzie_dee's "The truth hurts... but sometimes, the truth is all we have".

All We Have

Miss Parker remembers, most of all, that her mother said, “Don’t ever forget how much I love you” just before she stepped in that elevator.

She remembers it far more than the shots (count them: one, two, three) or even the light drifting through the new bullet hole (count them: one…)

Her mother committed suicide/was murdered/faked her death (delete as proven untrue) and it’s only natural to search for answers, or so ‘daddy’ says.

She searches, hunts (chases) the truth but all she does is find more questions. Sometimes she thinks that though people die from the truth every day she’ll be the first crushed (smothered, drowned; mix your own metaphor) under the weight of lies.

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