Everything you've known, everything you've believed in... gone. The shadows crawl with nightmares of your past. The winds whisper secrets you'd rather not know. And if you were bound to listen to the horrid secrets and whispers, how long would you last?
Ever since that first night, I started to doubt my childhood. Were the monsters under my bed real? Did the floorboards creak with the wind, or was there always someone or something watching, waiting? How much could I believe, how much were lies?
You think karma's a bitch? How about fate?
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