voices.

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Flint sat up. He had started slightly zoning off, and snapped out of it. Flint looked around, everything seemed slow for him. The tiredness hit him about a moment later. Flint layed back in his bed and stared at the ceiling. He gave a little shiver.

"Burn it. Burn it. Burn it all. You know you can."

Flint shook again. He hated when that happened, he hated the intrusive thoughts. The thoughts usually remained in the back of his head, but there were times where he just couldn't keep them out of his main stream of thoughts. They really sucked for him, they made him stop for a moment and ponder if he should listen to them. He never did.

"Burn it. Burn it. Burn it. Burn it. Burn it. Burn it. Burn it. Burn it. Burn it. Burn it. Burn it."

He stayed down on his bed.

unfishined
publishing all parts that may be unfinished but are still there

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