The world was a terrible place, cruel, pitiless, dark as a bad dream. Not a good place to live. Only in books could you find pity, comfort, happiness - and love. Books loved anyone who opened them, they gave you security and friendship and didn't ask anything in return; they never went away, never, not even when you treated them badly.

Cornelia Funke
  • JoinedMay 26, 2016




Story by Donna Echeverria
Beatings by DonnaEcheverria
Beatings
Imagine being ten and 12 year olds are beating you and your a girl. The 12 yr olds that are beating you are b...
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