When Shuri walked into the bar with her bag in hand and a beautiful black gown donned above her glamorous body, she was startled when she heard what could only be called an angel-like voice.
Looking up at the stage, she could see none other than Cinder, singing in a low voice with nothing to accompany him aside from a violin that could hardly keep up with the sheer beauty of his voice.
It was a sad tune and the lyrics of his sounds tugged at her heartstring as she fell in reminiscence about her life and the things she had to do to reach her current level and how much of her integrity she had to sacrifice to attain her goals.
She went from a young starry-eyed lawyer who believed in miracles and justice to a jaded old woman who recognized how ugly the world truly was and saw it in its truest colors.
Some people called this process— growing up. Others called the process— inching closer to spiritual death.
