Under my Pillow

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Tonight is one of the many nights that I had been waken by gunshots. It didn't use to bother me. But now it's enough to make me smuggle myself under my own pillow. And that's almost what happens every night till they stop.
It's not even the gunshots that scare me, it's the memories that tag along with them.
The laughing, the screaming, the guns, the blood. And him, laying there lifeless.
It's enough to make me smuggle myself under my own pillow.

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