PROLOGUE

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It's deafeningly noisy around me. The roar of cars passing by, the distant wailing of an ambulance, and the indistinct murmur of a crowd surround me like a suffocating blanket. They're talking, maybe about someone important, someone close by. Could it be me? I'm lost in this sea of faces, unable to remember how I got here or why. My body feels like it's been crushed under an immense weight, every inch of me throbbing in agony. My arm is limp and unresponsive, as if it's no longer a part of me. Breathing is a struggle-each breath shallow, labored, as if the air itself is fighting against me.

Beneath me, the ground is wet, sticky, and it reeks of iron. That's when the horrifying truth hits me: it's my blood, pooling beneath my broken body. A deep, bone-chilling cold creeps through me, numbing me to everything except the pain. I hear a voice cutting through the chaos, someone sobbing, screaming my name with a desperation that echoes in my mind. I can't turn my head, but I know who it is without needing to see. It's my mother, her voice filled with fear and heartbreak. She's here, but I can't reach out to her. I can't do anything. I'm slipping away, and she knows it too.

As the cold tightens its grip, the memories start flooding back. This isn't an accident, not some cruel twist of fate. This is something I did to myself. The weight of that realization is almost as crushing as the pain in my body. How could I have thought this was the answer? How could I have believed that ending it all would bring me peace? But now, as the world fades around me, I remember everything.

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