»——————————— ⚝———————————« Siara Glared. Alora Looked Away, Awkwardly And Avoiding Eye-Contact. Irene And I Mind-Blanked, In Shock. She Waved Politely To Us. When She Noticed Our Cold Replies, She Smiled. "Ah ... That's What I Thought Would've Happened," She Teased. We Ignored Her. She Continued In A Polite Tone. "I'm Morrisa Witherspoon," We All Flinched At Her Name. "Look, I Know Our Parents Had Conflicts But I'm Not Muriel. I'm Her Daughter. It's Different. And I Like You All. So Why Can't We Just Be Friends? After All, I Did Nothing To You. It Was My Mom, But Not Me. I Deserve A Chance, At Least," She Explained Quietly. Siara Muttered, "Yeah Right. You Haven't Done Anything Yet." Irene Agreed. And So Did Alora. In Fact, Alora Was Seething With Rage. But I Reacted Differently. "Morrisa, I Understand. You Can't Help Who Your Parents Are And What They Did," I Told Her Gently. Standing Next To Me, Siara Stepped On My Toes While Irene Elbowed Me In Warning. I Narrowed My Eyes At Them. "I Know What Her Mother Did To My Mother But Should We Judge The Next Generation For It?" I Remarked, Sticking Up For Morrisa. They Sighed, Realising I Make A Good Point. “Fine But No Messing Around,” Siara Warned. Morrisa Nodded, Relieved. I Guess We Are All Friends Now? Or Is She Our Fake Friend? And Still Our Enemy? »——————————— ⚝———————————«
@Siara_Grey @Irene_Grey @Alora_Flitworth @Ellie_Fitzwarren @Liv-Winchester @Morrisa_W @Luna_Adams_ FIRST: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1016632891/ PREVIOUS: NEXT:
