Jar of hearts
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Laatst gepubliceerd zat, mrt. 1, 2014
I slide the sharpened knife along my fingers, i can feel the knife slowly cutting my skin. I can feel my heart beating faster and faster. I walk into the warm living room. My foot steps are as quiet as a mouse. I stop in front of the armchair where Greta is sitting. I hold my breath.
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She sits there and twirls the knife in her hand. She has done this so many times before so it should be easy what else is there when you feel ALONE......
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