We weren't rich plantation owners; instead we were proud independent farmers scratching out a fair living from the red Georgia clay. We grew corn and ...aised hogs mostly but pa also made some locally famous corn squeezin' liquor. Ma frowned on the liquor but didn't forbid it as long as pa only sold it. She didn't tolerate drinking in our home. Mama didn't allow unmannered conduct of any kind for that matter. She managed through love and a will of iron to keep civility in our house.My ma was a. ——————————————————————————————————————————Back in her own room, Cindy stood shaking. It was almost like a sexual hangover. She and her sister were just alike; they both couldn't get enough sex. It was just like some kind of strange disease; but a good disease.Eating her sister had turned her juices on all over again. She didn't want to go back to the hairbrush and it would do little good to go back to Candy's room and repeat the same performance.She decided to slide into bed and dream herself. There she was, looking stunning as usual. She was wearing a light pink top, with blue jeans. She took off her shoes and came inside. She started explaining that what an idiot she was and that now she is locked out. She said that she wanted to use the computer.I gave her one of our laptops and she sat down and started working on it. We started talking in between and slowly the topic changed to weight. She said that she needed to lose some weight. I saw an opening and grabbed it. Boldly I told. “Sleep, my cub, but stay with me. Please, stay with me.” Jorza weeps into the blonde hair as Saunders slowly breathes. Finally, Jorza falls into a troubled sleep. The next time he wakes, sun is filtering through the windows and the rain has stopped. Jorza looks down at the still form in his arms. “My cub?” He whispers, looking at the pale face, feeling his wrists and neck for a pulse, but there is none. The howl that rends the hallways is terrible. Medve cowers in fear at the pain and sorrow in.