"We tried to be better, but we aren't. I don't think anyone could last more than a week here if they weren't willing to do bad things." - Alba Reyes

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MurderWeasel
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Somehow we drifted off too far...
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Summer, 2010 - Fall, 2010

After that, things got a little bit better. The press regained interest in Kimberly for a few weeks, but she was in a condition where she could deal with that. She spoke about what had happened, spoke against those she saw as profiting from the incident, and generally composed herself as well as she could. The whole time, she was half expecting to be cut down by a bullet from the crowd, to find herself flat on her back, bleeding to death again, but no attack came.

Again, life settled down. She faced new worries and hassles, but there was nothing insurmountable. Nothing felt like a big deal anymore. In many ways, that was good, but something in the back of her mind was always reminding her that she was dying day by day, just like everybody else. Some days, she wondered if, at twenty years old, she could have possibly lived out all the adventures of her life.

The possibility hurt more than she'd been prepared for, and so she started to put money away and think about travelling.
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