Does My existance matter

Does My existance matter

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing29m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Mon, Apr 24, 2017
"What exists after Death?", I asked myself, the smell of death had become more and more apparent with each day that had come and gone within one breath. "Whatever it is, it can't be worse than living" I answered myself. I knew however that I had answered that question a few weeks back but something was holding me back. was it him? Could this stranger that forced himself into my life have been the reason why the string my life hung by remained intact? Or was I waiting for the string to snap and plunge me into death's waiting arms? I repeated my answer, this time a little louder so my heart could hear it, "nothing is worse than living." We get to see the life of someone who is bullied through their eyes.. she takes us on a journey as we experience her pain, laughter,suicidal thoughts and hate. Yet through all that she remains quiet and shuts the whole world out but little does she know..she is killing herself.
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I'm about to tell you a story about a girl. A normal girl. A girl that had no cares in the world, until her trust for it was stripped away. When you read her story, you'll find yourself trusting her, loving her, rooting for her. But you see, not everyone gets to trust the world. Not everyone has a happy ending. --- Halfway through the kiss however, his attitude changed; instead of being a loving embrace, it became a fierce trap. His grip on her waist tightened, trapped her where she was instead of simply holding her where he wanted her. The hand in her hair grabbed a section of it, enforcing his demand for her not to go anywhere. Before she knew what was happening, he left go of her hair, and pushed her to the ground. She gasped, suddenly able to breathe. He stood up and walked over to her. He placed a soft hand on her cheek, just like he used to when he was telling her how special she was to him. None of the emotion was there this time however, all she could feel radiating from his was rage. "You shouldn't have run off, babe," he said bitterly. "I was about to show you how much I loved you. Instead, I now have to show you what happens when you anger me." --- The men regarded her, before she was shoved to the ground and one produced a whip. There, laying broken on the floor, as the other girls watched, she was whipped. Slowly, she felt her skin breaking in time with her heart and her will.

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