𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖚𝖊.

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0. THE PROCESS OF BREAKING

"Stop, stop, stop, stop!"

"̵̮͉̺͓̣̎̅̓̿ͅS̸̢̺͖͓̪͚͇̱̔̋̃̾̌t̸͙̗̤̑̂̌̒͆̋̈́͠ͅo̶̟̟̙̙̣͆̓̈́p̶̡͔̭̣̭̝̮̆̑̕͜ ̷̞̦͆̓w̷̧̡̼̝̺̯̪̺͜͝r̵̨̻̥̠͊̀͊́̆́̅í̵̧̨̙̘̙͚͕̖̐̿͐̚t̵̡͈͔͎̩̲͍̭̗͐͑͌̈́́̈́̋̋ͅị̷̡̗̘͚̹͍̩̑̍̍̎n̵͙̰̩͚̔͜ġ̴̨̛̭̥̞̱̩̙̮͊́̍̿͝.̷͕̯̗̮̖̰̻̟̃̓͊̎̀́̕"̵͎̺̟̑̓̋̉̇͋̀

"SHUT UP."

Your pen glided across the paper as quickly as it could as the words poured out of you unapologetically. You needed to write. Writing helped you stay calm, and right now, you were most certainly not calm.

"̸̠͚̲̱͉̗̃̉͗̒͝I̶̡̩̣͔̻͆ṭ̴̈́̔̈̋̈͝'̴̲̙̗̮͙̆̾̓́š̸͖͇̘͈̠̹͓̠̘̞ ̶̗͓͎̤̘͋̚n̸̢̛̮͎̪̗͚̺̪̠͉͂̈́͛̃̾̈̈́͑o̴͈̪̮͉̦̳͖͋̅͐̀̽͂̀̓ͅ ̶͖̼̰̙͙̰̫͔̻̋̔͊͋̀̐̓́̅͝u̸̢̥̣̳̺̗̖̜͖̓̽̎͠͝͝ś̴̝͚͔̟̪̜̭̯͐͌͛̒̆̓͑̚̕ẹ̸̛̬͚̾̽̋͗̃̐̚.̶̡̢̛̮̙͍͚̀͗͗̽͂̇́͠"̴̫̹̝̲͓̲̞̪̝͠

"You don't know anything," you growled.

"̵̯͑̓̂Ý̸̧̯̞͇̪̦̻̈́́̈́̓̒̄̇͌ŏ̸̧̹̦̙̥̦̗̑́̏͝u̷̢̻̤̿ͅ ̵̡̮͙͕̤̤͑̊̒̿̈́̚͝c̷̝̐̍̒̚ą̸̣͖̆͊̊͂̉̽̓ǹ̴̖̞͇̪'̴̧̨̛̰̰̩̫̟̯̞͛͊̆̆̒̇t̴̛͇͙̚ ̶̯̑́̾̈́̆̕͝e̵̢̧̬̜̥̳̻̔̌̀̽̔̃͠ͅs̶̘̹̦͗c̶̛͚̦̝̙̟̗̞̱̲̊̄͐͜ą̶͒͑̃͐͠p̸̧̖̄̀̒̄̈͑è̴̦̣̖͎͍̫͜.̶̺̻̩̘̥͓̗̓̽͂̄̓͂̾̕"̸̭̲̤͈͈̎͌͗̀́̈́́͛͝

"Yes I can. Words, I need words, and you'll be gone again."

"̴͍̙͉̾͆̃Ỷ̷̯̥̦͚́̌o̴̢͇̙̻̳͗̎̀͛̚͝u̶̲̝̳̭͚̘̪͖̒̓͆͜͠'̷̢̬̹̳̟͕͖̜̈̇̽̐̐͘v̵̠̱̺̬͇̎͘͜è̷̢̪̞̗͇̺̮̪̜̟̋̊̋̋͒͝ ̶̨͚̙͎̟̮̙͆́͒̀̈́̍́͘â̵̠̦͍͓̫̟̠̋͌̈́̊̎̈́̈̇͘͜l̶̡̟͇͙̻̻͓̈̈́̈́̒͑̕w̵̜̹̹̫̯̉́͂͗͒͝͝a̴̢̩͉̪̜͂̇̋̔͂͒̿͒̅́y̸͍̣̞̱̪͋͊̑͒͝ş̴̩̰̘̭̀́̔ ̷̝̗̓͑̉̈́̈́̔͝b̵̥̮̭̪̔͐̽̈́͐̚͜ě̸̛͚͒̏̈́̽͒e̸̡̜̻̾̋̽͛̀̾̑ň̷̛̯̲͇͖̣̑̾́̄̿̒͠ ̵̮͈͒͜s̷̢̉̓̑̏̀͑̑̈́̚͝o̸̰͉̜͊̇̏͌̂͐̓̂̕̕ ̸̛̯͊̂͂̔͌s̸̥̳͑́̚t̶̡͖̫̞̞̼͚̏̒̇̈́͐̂̑̋̕ͅṻ̸̧̫̜̰́̉͒̋̿̾͠ṕ̶̫̝̽̀̚i̷̛̟̞͚͚̪̖̰̘̥̊̈́͗̈́͐̅̂͘d̵̠̲̣̫͊́̓͗͠.̸͍̖̙̲̈́̊͊̇̂͜"̵̳̰̙̭͍̟͕̏͛̏̚͜

"I'm not. I'm not. I'm not."

"̵͎̫̚I̵̢͈͇͚͔̰͇̤̍͛̅̀̂̄̄̿͠ͅf̸͔̻̗͑̀͊ ̷̡̛̯̬̮̹̭̒̓̄̄͌̀̈́̒̕ͅÿ̵̞́̈́̆͗̌̂͌̾͝o̸̧̟̼̼̤̯̊͊̈́͋ṳ̴̹̺͉̄͋̇̒̽͌̈́̚ ̶̻̻̻͉̠̐̈́̍̆̓̉͘w̴͕̫͔̖̲̲̼̫̟̜̍̆̀̀ę̶͛̊͛̄́̊̋̔r̸͓͕̭̐̍̈́̏ȩ̷̨̻̦͍̜̺̹͖͔͋̂̐͊̎̿͂̿͐̓ṅ̸͇͖͇̣͍͊'̶̛̜̣̲̫͖̒̎͊̈́͑̓̓͑͒t̸̡̡͙͇̞͉͔̂͒̇̐̂͆̂͗̀̌,̸̣̒ͅ
 ̴̧̧̰̫̥̲̫͑͑͑̾̔̕̚ͅy̸̡̱̝͍̝͛̍͋̓̕o̵̤̯̱̪͛̋̒̓́͂͌͋̕ű̵̮̭̜͆͆̈́̔̈͆͜͝ ̴̧̢͔͉͙̰͉͚̈́͂̀̓ẉ̶̬̏͒̓̑̄̈͂͐ó̶̤͕̹͝u̸̯̭̞̇́͒̏͝l̷̢̼̩͆͒͌̇͛̀͋̊͜͝ḏ̵̛͎̜̩̫̠̭̣͒̈́͐͌ͅ'̶̰̲͓̣̤̼͙̤̬̮̀̓̃̉̌͌͘v̵̬̩͉̓̆̇̏e̴̛̙ ̸͇̳̺̈́̾̆̓͂̒̓̂̌l̸̼̈́̓̇ẽ̶̜͎̺̌̆̑̋t̸͚̘̳͎̦̤̺͑̽̌͛͆̍̌̔̃̚͜ ̴̙̜̥̔̇m̸͙̹͚̠̮̉̓e̸̡̧̩͉͕̠̬̯͐͑͌̈́̔̾̚ ̴͉͇̙̦͌͐͜ļ̶̲͒͒̒̐̒į̶̨̧̘͚̩̪͚̗̪̓̉̅̂͑͌v̵͍̟̠̪̥͖̉̇͘e̶͕̙̩̐.̷̞̙͍̻̝͙̼̟̘̎̍"̴̧̱̟̙͈͆͐͛͗͑̈́͑̚͜

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