Where it all started.

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Silence.

That's all I could hear, though noise was all around me.

Red.

The color of blood, the thing that taints the soul, ruining the purity of the kind.

Screams.

Noises that break through the silence, indicating that blood has been spilled on the once white snow.

4.

The age of which I was when I was exposed to such measure, tainted with horror.

Tears.

These are one of sadness that run down my face, and I watch it all go down in helpnessles.

Mother.

The person I witnessed being murder in the forest by a pack of wolves, for a crime not committed by her, but by a "friend" of hers.

11.3

The date of which she died, my birthday that has a solemn meaning to its mention.

Silence.

What I am met by after that say, everything I call out to her hoping for something, but endup with nothing.

All the heartbreak,

All the sadness,

All the anger,

All the guilt,

All the bitterness,

All the regret,

For a young girl, only four years old.

That day,

Is,

Where it all happened,

When it all started.

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