Disembodied Voices
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- Parts 32
12:46am Sunday
The colliding of metal poles awakes me on an early just turned Sunday morning. It never misses an opportunity to watch my poor soul snap out of my pale, startled skin. I can't remember when this all started to haunt me because I have lived in this patched up house all my life; well at least I am told that. To be honest, I cannot remember absolutely anything of my past fragile life.
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