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The walking stick to my death
preclude from my mind since her death kept hindering me over and above. The sound of a walking stick.. The sound of my nightmares! I dont know how I got here. All I know is I ran and this is where I ended or maybe not yet. I walked as fast as I could across the narrow school corridor my pitiable ears pressured to block the dreadful rythm as I put my hands over my ears sheathing them.
I felt a cold metal slashing my tan skinned neck. The thudding sound stopped and I wished the light had left my eyes sooner. I saw my father put an arm across my best friends shoulder and lead her away. With a knife in his hand and a walking stick in hers.
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im just another teen scribbling on the last page of her notebook.. and this article is I had written during a boring chemistry session