The death toll is 14, it was someone close to my neighbor. I don't know how but shit gets crazier and crazier. Her body was left behind, all soaked in blood. I can't think anymore, my brain has turned to mud. Honestly the antidepressants are what's holding me together. Otherwise I'd be a nervous wreck and I'd never get any better. Well technically the death toll is 15 plus the other neighbor downstairs. I don't know why I keep count, my mind is gone, I don't know where. The longer I stare at the clock, time starts to feel more like a threat. But something tells me I haven't experienced the worst yet.
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My Side of the Story Vol. I
PoetryInspired by Eminem and Celia Martinez This is my story.
