Chapter 5

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I had been absorbed in my thoughts for a couple of minutes when I felt a blow on my head. Being so focused on deciphering the previous situation, I had not noticed the fact that Carl had jumped down from my head, and that Rampo-kun had already finished reading my story. Then he said:

- Poe-kun, it's very simple this mystery; the murderer is the inner narrator himself, along with his sister, who helped him by hiding the corpse in his neighbors' house and erasing any bloodstains or fingerprints.

His words totally sunk me. God, so many, many attempts for nothing. So many hours wasted, no sleep, not even food, just to be able to perfect this set of pages. Was it my destiny to be a good writer? I got for telling Rampo-kun that the next one would be better, and before I could add anything else, I grabbed Carl, said goodbye and left as fast as my thin, sensitive legs could take me.

...

The days went by and I had less and less inspiration, not to say that my insecurity about making a mistake had increased excessively. Honestly, more than thinking about what to write, my mind was constantly processing if there was any possibility of becoming a real writer. I ate only once a day, and slept about five hours a day; however, I continued to offer my services to Carl, who needed my help the most. I felt as if I had no place in the literary world, which sunk me even deeper; so much so that all my attempts to write something decent ended up lying everywhere, crumpled into balls of paper. 

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