Their tongues will burn, I thought, as though they had eaten fire. Their throats will burn when the words come out and in their bellies they will feel a torment hotter than a thousand fires.
I knew I'd never see my family if I were captured; we wouldn't be reunited at the school. I had to get down from this tree safely and keep moving. Mitch had sacrificed himself so I could live, so I had to live. It was the only thing left I could do for him.
Write, Linguaphile! Bleed Literature, tonight. Let the Words take flight.
This conflict; so wicked To lose, so necessary to love.