Prologue

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It's just me. Alone. I am Tammy Smith.

Internationally famous for my "dear old Dad" shooting my mom, sister, grandma and I. I was only shot in the leg. My sister barely made it. My mom and grandma..... they didn't.

Internationally famous for running the 4 miles down the New York streets to the police station with a bullet in my leg because I couldn't get to a phone. Darn New Yorkers.

Internationally famous for my stupid useless prosthetic leg.

I get it, I'm lucky to have one

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I get it, I'm lucky to have one. Don't tell that to me. It makes me feel terrible. Terrible because it sounds like you are telling me that I stole it from someone, like someone else deserves it more. Terrible because you make me feel ungrateful. And finally, terrible because why the heck would I feel happy or lucky for having my family  destroyed by four bullets. And don't even think you understand. YOU DON'T.

                                  Hello
Its the author, this is much shorter than a normal chapter. I just want see if it sparks any interest. I love you guys. Really.



                            Thank You

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