>>18965814A couple of miles into the forest and after dodging critters, large mammals, and trees alike she finally stopped the car. She had managed to control her feelings until now. There was no soul nearby to see what was about to happen, but she would have to live with the memory. She didn't want that. She opened the glove box, she had some cocaine inside. She was used to help herself with it.
But her hands were shaking.
She tried to cut a line to no avail. She slapped herself in hopes of regaining control over her body.
But her hands were shaking.
Raquel punched the steering wheel four times. The sound of the claxon scared some birds. She grabbed her purse and threw it to the windshield. The inside of the car was all bestrewn with the pages of the candidates.
She was crying. She was shouting. She was a mess.
She felt small. She felt lost. She felt...
She didn't want to admit it. While weeping uncontrollably she grabbed a couple of the pages and scrolled through them until she found the page of the person she had put her hopes onto for the last month. Her eyesight was blurry but she knew exactly what the scribble at the bottom of the page said:
Sheila Foster: Not a candidate.
Reason: Loses too much.
She felt small. She felt lost. She felt that she didn't deserve to have a friend.
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