Bloody Hands

Bloody Hands

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WpMetadataReadMatureComplete Tue, Feb 3, 202615m
This book is my reality. Fragmented, unfinished, and written by a sixteen-year-old girl who learned early that order was a luxury. I am an idea, a story, a melody - sometimes a poem. I am the child that was never saved, the eldest daughter who waited quietly to be seen. These pieces are not polished. They are not explanations. They are my reality. And while they will always belong to me, they are not all that I am.
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هذه القصة وليدة خيالٍ جامح ، تنسج حروفها على نول الوهم والاحتمال فإن تماهت شخصياتها أو تداخلت أحداثها مع شيءٍ من واقعكم فاعلموا أن ذلك لم يكن محض مصادفة...بل مقصودًا ؛ ذبحني مرخي الرمش الخجول الناعس النجدي ‏هواني وإن هويته ما قويت الموت من دونه.. ‏لا منه رمى رمشه ولا مس خده الوردي ‏تضيع الشمس . . وأنوار المكان بنظرة عيونه

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