IF YOU DO NOT FOLLOW THESE RULES, YOUR VOTE WILL NOT COUNT!!

1. Please look at every entry
2. When you find the one you like the most, figure out which number it is (Number is located right next to the picture)
3. Comment on this journal with the NUMBER of the picture you like and include WHY YOU LIKE IT OVER THE OTHERS.  "Because it is my friend's picture" Or "its pretty" Do NOT count as a reason for liking it. Please, give a good reason for choosing. Explain why it is pretty, what makes it stand out, how unique the relationship is, etc. 
4. If you would like you vote to be anonymous, you may note me with your vote.
5. NO FAKE ACCOUNTS! All fake accounts I find trying to vote will immediately be reported to DA.
6. While it is not required, it would behoove you to advertise this voting journal so that more people can vote. Statistically speaking, the more people that vote, the higher chance you have at winning~ So, Tell your friends about it, tell your friend's friends! Get this poll out there so that more votes can be made!!

Okay! Now, here are the entries!

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26. The Middle of WinterSugar’s cheeks have the flush of a snowman’s, marble and pallid. It’s the middle of winter, her favorite, and it’s snowing feet bedecking feet in her front yard. It’d come in the night. It is soft and heavy, and slow, but it covered the ground when she woke up and blocked the door and garage so her father has to stay home from work for once. He is in the kitchen with her mother, and they’re making a hot drink together and laughing in undertones.
    Sugar is sitting by the window, a ways off from them. She is sitting on a dictionary on a chair because she’s not tall enough to see over the window otherwise. Her father says she’ll grow when she’s older. She’s not a double digit yet.
    It’s so heavy. Nobody’s outside. If she wanted, she could open the window and grab a bunch of snow without even reaching very far down; that’s how much there is. Up to her nostrils in snow.
    “When can I make a snowman?” She a_____________________________
    
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31. Thanks, MomBriiiiiiiiiing! Briiiiiiiiiiiiing!
    I shift around on the bed, groaning loudly. Flinging my hand over to my right, I knock the alarm clock off the desk, abruptly stopping the incessant ringing. Opening my eye a crack, I bite my lip to prevent a sob from escaping my lips. I just stare at the ceiling, the events of last week flashing through my head like a dream.
    I only wish it was a dream…
    I crawl out of bed, desperately trying to ignore the hole in my heart.
    “Good morning Alessia!”
    I glance at her briefly. Her blonde hair is tied up in a ponytail, and she’s wearing her favorite blue apron again. Her smile is nervous, timid. I send a glare her way and walk over to the farthest end of the table.
    “Hello Maeve.”
    Her smile falters, and for a minute her face is in shock. I ignore her, looking through the shelves for the jam and bread. I don’t want to talk to her, I don’t want to even look at her anymore. I hate her. I_____________________________
    
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60. Mature Content

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