She turned her face up to me. From somewhere in her soul, I could see the challenge still in her eyes.Tara was a woman of her words; master or slave."...'m sorry," I whispered.I felt the voice inside howl its victory. It took me over for the split second that it takes to capture mercy, pity, empathy, and any emotion. It dragged them all down into the little box I built on the last day I cried myself to sleep from the pain. It left behind only the waiting and the purpose.I beat her, not with the. The all seemed ready to turn to cartoon characters who would sew your dress out of curtains and ice your cake. I was filled with gratitude. One day I found myself skipping, actually skipping down the path. I know that I had a lot to be grateful for. The weather was great, and the stores were beginning to stock Halloween decorations. It was one of those falls, that because things were going so well, the entire world was colored by my rose-colored glasses. I began to view Chris like a writing. More

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