Preface

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I remember the day that I was robbed. I was shaking, shaking like a soda bottle that was about to explode. How could this have happened? I've been completely robbed of everything I had ever known, and I am shaking with intense, heated rage. How dare they rob me of what I held dear to me.

I hate this robber with a passion, like a burning fire in the pit of my stomach. "Who's the robber?" I hear you ask. It's simple; we all have it coming for us. It's death.

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