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Dysphoria

by NonAnalogue

ashwyn choke.png
NonAnalogue Ashwyn looked into the mirror.

As was normal, she didn’t much like the person who looked back. It didn’t look like her - at least, not like how she knew she ought to look. Ashwyn frowned, her shoulders slumping, as she played with a lock of hair.

The medicine - the concoction that the herbalist the next town over had mixed up for her on the sly - was starting to do the trick. Ashwyn could tell that much, at least. But it was slow, and Ashwyn only had patience in certain areas of her life.

This was not one of them.

The person in the mirror sneered back at her. Ashwyn swallowed, feeling a lump in her throat. She could almost feel his hand on her neck, keeping her from moving. From going forward. In his eyes, Ashwyn could see the person she was - the person she would hopefully one day leave behind.

Her heart pounding in her chest brought Ashwyn back to reality. She wiped at the corner of her eye and noted dispassionately that there were tears.

She splashed some water on her face and tried to bury the emotions deep in her gut.
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