Above the streets, your life caters to the rich, to the good. The perfect little shops set up on the streets, the tourists buzzing with life, a couple shares a drink and a smile. But I'm not here to talk about how life felt before I was sixteen. When the heat would bathe across my skin, my life was filled with chasing boys and laughing in the rain. Now, I ran from them. Ran from the hands that caressed me. That hit me. I'm Charlie, short for Charlotte. And this is the story about how I died.
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