"You can't do it." They all said, glaring down at her. "Why? Why can't I follow my dreams? I want to write." She said, wilting under their cold stares. "Just look at how you've fallen down. How are you even going to write a book? This is all your fault." they chorused. Indeed, Seanae was sprawled on the icy cobblestones. Her scraped knees were bleeding waves of crimson. "B-but you're the ones who pushed me." She whimpered. Suddenly, they all went dead quiet. Seanae looked down, embarrassed. "You can't do it." They repeated. "You can't even pick yourself up." But she did. Slowly, she dusted off her knees and limped into a standing position. " You're wrong. I can do it, and I will," she told them. And with that, "English Rose" was published.
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