"Promet moi juste"
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- Parts 2
Je ne sais pas si je suis folle. Si j'ai perdue l'esprit ou si je suis devenue putain de psychopathe.
Je fourre mes mains pleines de boue, du à ma fuite, dans les poches de ce sweet trop grand pour moi. J'avale difficilement ma salive et ne lâche pas le bâtiment qui se trouve devant moi des yeux. Suis-je vraiment sure de ce que je vais faire ? Après cela, retourner en arrière ne ne sera plus envisageable. Je suis surement en train de faire une putain de grosse connerie mais une partie de moi me dit que c'est ce que j'aurais dû faire depuis le début. Mes joues sont sèches dû aux larmes qui ont coulée. Je suis une putain de faible.
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#103
haine
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