Short Story (7) He is sitting in this tub , with a weed roll in this hand, this depressed face is just staring at the wall.. His brain was thinking of everything that he has been through with people.. As those black tears were running on his cheek. And those red tears running on his arms.. Where the cuts that he ran the blades on.. People judged him, mistreated him . Used him.. Yet all he did was giving
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