Prolouge:

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All the broken.
All the busted.

We're quiet.
Because no one hears us.

Invisible.
Because no one sees us.

And hopeless.
Because no one believes in us.

The truth is, we're all dying.
The thing is wether someone will help you through it.

Then again, you can't kill something that isn't really there.

I should know.

I'm the broken.
I'm the busted.
I'm the lonely.
I'm the rusted.

I'm a misfit.

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