The End Justifies the Means

By Sol Dente, TIWP Student “You bastard.” Crimson drops stained the floor around the boy’s shaking shoulders, blood dripping past his lips as he struggled to keep his fragile hold on consciousness. His chocolate brown hair was messy from the fight and normally bright green eyes were clouded with pain. Next to the boy’s kneelingContinue reading “The End Justifies the Means”