Tears roll down your cold, pink cheeks. You feel the pain of their words. Your hand quivers as you reach for the black handle. As the cold blade touches your arm a surge of anger and sadness travels through you, you pull your hand with the sharp blade and cringe. The pain surges through your arm. With every pull of the handle more tears come and drip down into your red stinging arm. The pain throbs through your body. Blood falls like dew drops on the grass and hit the floor making your mark of regret and sadness.
Respect!
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Delen
