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A twig-like girl with eyes the color of the sky and hair that’s either brown or the shade of a dirty golden fry. She’s always talking and never stops moving. She’s got a small group of friends she’s obsessed with and will punch you in the gut if you laugh at her bad jokes.
Why are you even here? You’re not in my friend group.
I’m not mean, I’m just dramatic.
You’re like a walking disaster.