14th April 2013

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Here I am again on another shitty birthday.
I only want to die.
Thomas stopped talking, selective mutism I think, I'm continuing to smoke secretly, because I cannot get enough of it.
I don't cry anymore, I don't scream anymore, I don't smile-ah no I was joking, I never really smiled.
My little brother, a rose petal, was soiled and ruined by the muddy shoe of a merciless man who walked on it.
I'm trying to survive, crawl out of what imprisons me, since our uncle has reached the point of confining us to the house.
If this life is a gift from God, then I want to crawl out of this Eden as soon as possible, to reach hell, where I can finally feel the heat of the flames that will envelop me.
Help.
-Ren

Ren. [ENG]Onde as histórias ganham vida. Descobre agora